Rhymes With Tyler

Dan Mangan Is Cooler Than You

2010-01-31T19:16:00.006-07:00

In the last two posts, I celebrated the present by living in the past. Keeping in that vein, I'll once again post an interview that I did back at the end of October. I assure you, this will be the last time, because I think I might have some new material to write. However, usually when I think that, I disappoint myself when I realize that I don't actually have anything new to write. It's during that realization that I ask myself, "Is my life really that devoid of incidents worthy of notation?" Sadly, my life mostly consists of school work and drinking, and nobody cares to read about those banal exploits. Unless they involve you, right?

In any case, here is another interview that I was extremely lucky to conduct. It was with Dan Mangan, who is pretty much the coolest and talented guy I've met in the last few years. I was able to sit down with him at the end of his last Canadian tour in the fall, and if you want to talk about people who will go places, Dan will be going places. And we'll be lucky to go along for the ride as fans. If you aren't doing anything this Friday, go to Dan's early show at the Haven Social Club (the later show is sold out). It's what all the cool kids and some of us semi-cool kids are doing.

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NAIT NUGGET ON NOVEMBER 19, 2009.

NO ROAD REGRETS WITH DAN MANGAN

By Tyler Daignault

Dan Mangan and I are sitting in the backroom of the Haven Social Club, in an area no bigger than a moderately sized cubicle, lit conspicuously by a multitude of black ultraviolet lights. The Vancouver singer/songwriter’s last show of his month-long tour has just come to a close, and thoughts of enjoying two much-needed nights’ rest in his own bed aren’t far from his thoughts. He’s dog-tired, whereas I’m wired with excitement by the amazing show I just witnessed. I try not to gush praise on the talented musician, but it’s hard not to dole out compliments when he’s so deserving of them. Mangan’s hauntingly sweet musical notes guided by sandpaper-rough vocals are fresh sounds in the stale, auto-tune wasteland of present music. By this point, however, the heaps of good word must seem like broken-record platitudes to Mangan, who has garnered great critical acclaim for his sophomore album, Nice, Nice, Very Nice. He’s riding an unbridled wave of good fortune across the nation, a ride few indie folk artists can claim. In the mere three months since NNVN hit the shelves, Mangan has been crowned the indie king of Vancouver, toured Australia and Europe, and most importantly, won the XM Verge Artist of the Year award, netting a cool $25,000.

But Mangan is his usual humble, affable self. When discussing how the album came to be, he is quick to note that it’s not he who’s the catalyst for success, but others. NNVN employed a host of friends, colleagues and contemporaries from the indie music scene to add depth, talent and experience to Mangan’s own ample repertoire. “I always tried to surround myself with people that I thought were better than me,” he states. “Naturally, you gravitate towards people who are talented and creative... and they can bring their own taste. Veda Hille, Mark Berube Justin Rutledge all brought their own flavour to the songs. For me, it was mostly an exercise in humility, bringing in these people, watching them do great work, and then fawning over them.” Mangan’s triumphs haven’t gone to his head. Even while playing sold-out shows across the country, he still is amazed. “It’s hard to have a bad time on stage when you have a crowd like tonight (in Edmonton). I tend to grin a lot on stage, because I can’t help it. I just look out at the crowd and I start giggling. It’s still all very surreal.”

The sold-out crowds on this tour are due in large part to the melodic collection of rock/roots/pop tunes Mangan has under his belt. Audiences across the country have been humming and singing along, and reacting strongly to his captivating stage presence. Mangan is enthralling to watch perform and his effect on the audience is palpable. Here in Edmonton, he could have sung the phonebook, and the audience would still have been mesmerized by his sheer talent. In songs like “Road Regrets”, “Basket” and “The Indie Queens Are Waiting”, Mangan grabs hold of your emotions and sweeps you along with anthems of rollicking road journeys, mournful affections, and subtle social comment. And with “Robots”, you can’t help but join Mangan in an almost epic sing-along that overtakes the entire room.

What does Dan do for an encore performance? After his two-day respite at home, he’s off to Dubai for a couple of shows and then back to Europe. He’s writing a little bit here and there, and he might explore his side project, Poor Places. For the time being, Dan’s enjoying a nice, nice, very nice year. And it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

Apologies and GravyTrains

2010-01-13T21:41:00.006-07:00

Wow.

Three months.

No posts.

I apologize to anyone who reads this blog once in a while, out of pity, or simply by chance after clicking the "random" button on Blogspot. I kind of took an extended leave of absence from writing. I kind of just effed off, and I didn't say why. I'm sorry.

I had good reasons. I was busy. I was busy with school, busy with life, busy with trying to make sense of the world. Actually, just busy with the first one. The first term of my second post-secondary engagement required some serious attention.

But now that my first semester of radio school is complete, I will try to get back to doing what I love: writing about nostalgic pop-culture crap, posting movie trailers and thinking about the old days when liquor was cheap and personal responsibility was a basic human right.

To get back on track, I'll sort of cop-out and post some articles that I wrote for the NAIT Nugget while at school, like the post before this one. Sure, they're not recent, but they're original. The first post is an interview I had with Tim Doiron and April Mullen, the incredibly talented auteurs behind Rock, Paper, Scissors: The Way of the Tosser and their most recent work, GravyTrain. These artists are two of the coolest people I've met, and their films should be entered into the canon of national treasures. Enjoy!

Originally published in the NAIT Nugget on October 22, 2009

COME ON RIDE THE GRAVYTRAIN

by Tyler Daignault

“It’s kind of like Starsky and Hutch meet David Lynch doing Twin Peaks, if David Lynch had more of a sense of humour.”

Tim Doiron’s description of GravyTrain, the new feature-length film by him and his creative partner, April Mullen, could not be more spot-on. Chosen as the closing night gala film at the Edmonton International Film Festival this past Saturday, the film is a far cry from the pair’s first theatrical foray, the mockumentary Rock, Paper, Scissors: The Way Of The Tosser. Whereas RPS played it pseudo-straight with great effect, GravyTrain “is just a real good time. Wacky, even, I guess you could say”, says Doiron. “Eccentric, too” declares Mullen.

In GravyTrain, Doiron plays Charles “Chuck” Gravytrain, a ne’er-do-well cop bent on putting the serial-killing villain, Jimmy Fish Eyes, behind bars in the small town of Gypsy Creek. Mullen plays his newly minted partner, big city cop Miss Uma Booma, who greater competence hides her own sordid past. Also involved are big and small screen veterans like Canadians Colin Mochrie, Jennifer Dale and Peter Keleghan. Even Canadian rock legend Alan Frew, former lead singer of Glass Tiger is on board, and probably most surprisingly, Saturday Night Live alum Tim Meadows. How did Doiron and Mullen secure such talent for a small Canadian film? It helps if you’ve worked with the actor before. Mullen, whose first film credit is as “Teen Lover” in Meadows’ SNL skit-turned-feature, The Ladies Man, approached Meadows’ manager. As Mullen recounts, “I approached (the manager) and said ‘I was 16 when I did The Ladies Man and could Tim just read the script?’ And he loved it! And it was easy after that, because the role was written for him.”

GravyTrain is a visually pleasing trip into semi-70s buddy cop parody, but the discussion of its creation does require a look into its creation pedigree. Rock, Paper, Scissors and its subsequent DVD distribution through Alliance Atlantis, one of Canada’s biggest distribution companies, allowed Doiron and Mullen entrance into uncharted territory – a larger budget for their next picture. And that larger budget allowed them not only a larger and more identifiable cast, but more time to flex their filmmaking skills, skills they developed while creating RPS. “The training we had with RPS with the seven-day shoot definitely came in handy when dealing with so many variables, like stars and other people, because it can get hairy at times, ” relates Doiron. The hardest part, they say, was getting RPS seen. Doiron and Mullen, costumes and attitudes in tow, did all of the promotions themselves. They toured the country coast-to-coast, showcased at festivals, did every media interview they could get, and conducted screenings and tournaments at colleges. As a result, the film became a critical and audience hit and had widespread recognition, almost unheard of for an independent Canadian film, even in its home country.

Though the creative duo achieved great heights with Rock, Paper, Scissors all over Canada and even in the US and the UK, there is one city that they credit with having a major influence on their success: Edmonton. “It’s our second home!” exclaims Mullen, to which Doiron adds, “We love E-Town. Edmonton took a risk on us with our first film and we owe all of our success up to date to Edmonton. We met people who loved the film, and that led to meeting people at Telefilm, then Alliance, and that enabled us to get distribution and the ability to make our next film. ”

It’s been a long, arduous, but fruitful journey for the once grad class president and former Miss Teen Niagara, but the journey won’t stop to rest on its laurels. “We’ve already started writing our next one and we’re really excited”, reveals Mullen. Doiron adds, “I think we’re just going to stick to movies for a while. I think my days of trying to run a classroom are over, although I think April may give another run for Miss Canada.”

I Am A Crack Journalist

2009-10-11T11:16:00.003-06:00

So why the long delay in posts this time? Have I grown tired of wallowing in my own crapulence? No, I've just been busy with school.

Yeah, school! I made the decision before the summer that my life needed a new direction, because frankly, I didn't like the direction I was going in at the time. I was hurtling towards mediocrity, and that didn't really sit well. I needed a new challenge, something different, something with an interesting future. So I applied for the Radio & Television program at NAIT, and was very lucky to have been accepted for the radio side of it. So far, radio has been everything I hoped it would be, namely, a chance for me to talk. And talk without ever having to hear, "you don't ever shut up, do you?".

Not only does the program come with the benefits of a hands-on education, but opportunities for really fun side projects, as well. I've started writing periodically for the Nugget, NAIT's student newspaper. Because of this, I've done a couple interviews so far, my first of which almost led me to have fanboy aneurysms. I was very fortunate to be able to interview Alex Rosamilia of The Gaslight Anthem, one of my newest favourite bands, before their show at the Edmonton Event Centre on September 26. Here is that interview that was published in the Nugget on October 1.

GASLIGHT, GAS BRIGHT

The Gaslight Anthem got to the half-way point of their set at the Edmonton Event Centre, when frontman Brian Fallon has to ask a few questions of the writhing, sweat-soaked and madly enthusiastic crowd in front of him:

“Where did you all come from? How do you know us? Is it the internet?”

Their ever-rising popularity continues to baffle members of The Gaslight Anthem, even though their ascension up the ranks of rock’s pantheon is no fluke. This New Brunswick, New Jersey foursome has worked hard for their dues, and that work is finally paying off, garnering the passionate attention of the masses and almost universal critical praise. Not to mention some rock royalty attention and appreciation, as well. Fellow New Jersey native Bruce Springsteen is always mentioned when discussing the band’s sound, and fortunately for them, the Boss really likes their stuff. So much so, that he’s asked to play live with them on occasion, like at this summer’s Hard Rock Calling in London. Since the release of their debut album, Sink or Swim, in 2007, TGA have followed with the EP, Señor and the Queen, and the full-length The '59 Sound, and created a sound that ranges from raucous punk to emotional retro-rock.

Lead singer/guitarist Fallon, drummer Benny Horowitz, bassist Alex Levine and lead guitarist Alex Rosamilia are currently on the last leg of a seemingly endless tour lasts lasted a year and a half. I was able to catch up with Rosamilia in Edmonton about how they spent their summer, Kelly Clarkson covers and Japanimation.

It’s been only five months since you’ve been in Edmonton for a gig at the Starlite Room. How is it playing in a mall?

You know, it’s funny, because when I found out, I had went to the mall that was near the Starlite the last time we were here, and I heard we were playing the mall in Edmonton, but I was at that mall! Where the hell are we gonna play? I didn’t realize it was this place. This isn’t a mall, it’s a village. It’s huge!

You’ve been on tour for a pretty long time in support of The ’59 Sound. About a billion years maybe?

When was it out? ‘Cause it’s been since then, until now.

And you’ve been around the world, and you’ve played a lot of festivals this summer, like Lollapalooza, Glastonbury, Hard Rock Calling. And I was very lucky to see you at Sasquatch. How is the festival experience for you?

We played all of them, I think. Sasquatch was fun. That venue was gorgeous, unreal. The festival is different than this, doing club shows and touring professionally. It’s two totally different animals. The festival is so regimented and everything’s in 15-minute increments. You have to show up between this time and this time, and load up from this time to this time, with like, four hours in between. There’s more time with club shows. Instead of ten minutes to line check, there’s an hour and a half. So you get to work on things. We learned trusty chords today.

You played early on the first day at Sasquatch. Do you get to stick around, or do you have to zip off to another show?

Well, sometimes we’d have to leave because the drive was so long. But when we stay, I like to venture out. I got to see Radiohead in Redding which was pretty cool, and the Flaming Lips. I go out in the crowd, because I like going to shows just as anybody else.

I’ll have to admit that I lost it a little when you played Pearl Jam's “State Of Love And Trust” at Sasquatch. How do you choose covers to play?

It’s funny, because it just kind of happens. One day, Brian (lead singer Fallon) played the progression and said, “Oh, that’s that song!” And then Ben (drummer Horowitz) started playing it on the drums, and we thought that was a good song so we should learn it. We like mixing it up. We like playing covers. Covers are fun.

There’s one cover in particular, which at first I thought was weird, but then thought it was kind of interesting because of the delivery. Brian’s version of Kelly Clarkson’s “I Do Not Hook Up” for BBC Radio One.

I was there for that! That was interesting. Brian was given a list of songs, so he picked the one that was most out of left field. It was the wackiest by far.

Going back to 2007’s Sink Or Swim, on “We’re Getting A Divorce, You Keep The Diner”, the opening lines are from Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust (“Ready or not, here they come... it’s zombie time!”)

I think you’re the only second person that’s ever gotten that!

Are you the anime fan in the band?

Yeah, that’s me. When we wrote the song, it wasn’t there. I used to have a loop pedal, and that was one of three staples. One was for use for a side project, one was a line from Braveheart, and one was that line. At shows, I used to throw it in there before anybody could think about it. Then I was doing it at practice, and when we went to record it, I just hit the button. Force of habit, I guess.

So this is the last tour before the new album, and someone in the band mentioned that it might be a Social Distortion/Elvis Costello-type rocker.

Definitely a departure from The ’59 Sound. It could, it might not be, I don’t know. We haven’t done anything yet. Well, we’ve been working on stuff, but there’s no keystone yet. We’re fiddling with that stuff, and there’s some Fleetwood Mac in there. I’m about ready to write some new stuff. I’ve got the itch.

Black Dynamite!

2009-09-13T10:49:00.002-06:00

If you've been following this blog for a long time, then you must be my mom (hi mom!). If you're not, you may not have read a post I did a while back in September of 2006 regarding a "movie of the day". It was a blaxploitation gem called Black Belt Jones, a movie that will stand proud in the grand pantheon of historic African-American film, because of it's portrayal of strong black characters, the urban scene and the socio-economic conflicts that existed in the 1970s. Also, "mothafucka" gets said a lot, and that's awesome.

I've always had a huge interest in blaxploitation, because it was a genre that pulled no punches. Sure, the genre didn't produce the greatest works of celluloid, and most of the films are laughable today, but that doesn't mean that the filmmakers don't deserve our respect. They made the films they wanted to, regardless of what The Man thought. Right on, brothers. Right on. Blaxploitation hasn't really had any sort of resurgence, and outside of Undercover Brother, and the Grindhouse double-feature (which only had winks to the style), there hasn't been any film that's tried to re-capture the look, sound and genuine ferocity of the films of the 70's. Until now.

Black Dynamite is about to explode into theatres (hopefully, this October). And for all you suckas who don't know, Black Dynamite's a mean cat who's gonna make trouble for bad muthas. According to IMDB, Black Dynamite "is the story of 1970s African-American action legend Black Dynamite. The Man killed his brother, pumped heroin into local orphanages, and flooded the ghetto with adulterated malt liquor. Black Dynamite was the one hero willing to fight The Man all the way from the blood-soaked city streets to the hallowed halls of the Honky House."

Matter of fact, this could be the greatest film of the year. Of course, I say that about every film that I come across and get man-excited for, but I'm serious this time! Even though the film is a spoof/homage, it doesn't mean that it won't be great times infinity. This isn't another "_____ Movie" movie, and I ain't talking no jive! Just check out the trailer, and you'll know what I mean. Get your $100 suits on and let's get it goin'!

There Will Be Another Firefight!

2009-09-03T18:23:00.005-06:00

"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be."

If you're like me, then you've got October 30th circled on your calendars (if you are like me, then maybe you shouldn't get so damn excited about films. Seriously). It's not because that day is Devil's Night, but because a long-awaited sequel will explode into theatres. That film is The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day, and for that, you can get excited no matter how much of me you're like. This is a film that's been on the waiting list for ten long fucking years, and it's almost finally here. Just barely two months from now. Thankfully, while we wait, we can enjoy a most excellent trailer that gives us exactly what the first film offered: guns, violence, militant Irish-Catholicism and some good old Irish punk rock. What it also offers, that the first film didn't, is a woman. Thank God. The first film, although immensely awesome in its own right, was a sausage fest.

Now, some may argue that Troy Duffy's original film was a cheap rip-off of any film by Tarantino or Scorsese, and that it's a film that lacks any character development or creation of dialogue regarding its subject matter (vigilante justice), but who the fuck cares? Not all films have to be dissected and discussed as if somehow they'll prove a window to the recesses of our souls or provide a societal understanding. Screw that. The Boondock Saints was entertaining, well-shot and had a great score. Also, it made me even more uncomfortable with Willem Dafoe. Which I didn't think was possible. After watching the first film again, how does anyone truly believe he could pull off a convincing woman? He's fucking scary looking! However, at least Willem had some of the best dialogue in the film. Who can argue the sheer voracity in which he attacks this scene? It still gives me chills.

Check out the TBDSII trailer here:

True Patriot Love - Part Two

2009-08-22T22:13:00.013-06:00

Yes, it's been a while. I took almost a month off from blogging. I had to. From the end of May until August 5, I was working full-time, seven days a week at two jobs. When I came home, the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of the computer and rant about rampant idiocy or reminisce about cheap toys. I really just wanted to sleep. Plus, it's been pretty hot, what with it being summer and all (too hot for me, anyways. I radiate enough heat by myself, I don't need Earth's help). Since my computer is in an upstairs room, it gets too uncomfortable to type most days. I really didn't want to post while sitting in a self-made pool of ball and ass sweat. Awesome picture I just painted for you, isn't it?

All gross images aside, I've had some time to myself, some wonderful times with friends, some great trips and great adventures, but now it's back to business. Maybe not everyday business, but at the very least, I can assure you that I won't take a month off again. Unless I get a girlfriend. Then I'll be taking care of a different kind of business. Ah, who am I kidding? I'm a living joke.

I introduced this new series of posts back in May when I featured Canada's most prolific album-spewing DJ, Chris Sheppard. Now I've come across another one of Canada's best: KIDSTREET!

(promo video here for Facebook users)

Kidstreet was a game show I watched without fail as a kid, mostly because it had the best prizes, and it was a show where I could feel happy that I was smarter than the dumb kids from out east or Calgary (especially Calgary). It was hosted by Kevin Frank, who always told some stupid kids joke at the beginning and sometimes assaulted contestants with toys or cue cards. It was a show that when watching, my sister and I could bond, as opposed to our vicious fighting the other 23.5 hours of the day (yeah, we probably fought while we slept). The point of the show was for pairs of kids, usually siblings, to try and guess what their counterpart would answer to various questions. Kind of a Newlywed Game for kids. My sister and I would always brag that we would always be able to guess what each other would say, even though as kids, we hated each other, and if prizes weren't on the line, we'd probably both throw the game just to make the other lose as well.

After rounds of questions to each partner separately, the winning team would get a chance to solve the "rebus", which was a bastardization of Classic Concentration. If they did solve it, the team would get a king's ransom in toys and prizes. And that was the draw of the show. The amount of toys and prizes were off the charts. I'd tune in every time to see what was being given away, and what I'd be putting on my Christmas list. Also, most of the kids playing were semi-retarded, so it was great fun to mock them. Take a look at the first part of this video and listen to the second contestant talk.

(Facebook click here)

Oh Matthew. You're one lawn dart in the head away from being fully handicapped. Or maybe you're just nervous. I always hated when the kids told stories after their answers. Like who the fuck cares if your Mom sleeps nude sometimes? Wait, maybe his mother might have been a hooker. I do like that there's a Tyler in contestant's row, but I don't agree with his haircut. He's got a hair part that looked like it's been gouged into his skull. On a side note, why do all the contestants clap over their heads? What's that all about? And as for the red team, whose parents obviously can't fucking spell (Allyne and Maellody? Seriously?), watch Allyne have an aneurysm at 4:07 of part two. Nothing's going on upstairs there, kids.

So to Kidstreet, for giving my sister and I reason to truce for a little while and for letting me make fun of other kids, I give you some True Patriot Love.

Welcome To The 21st Century, Programs!

2009-07-27T13:40:00.003-06:00

Well, it's finally been confirmed. "Tron 2.0", or whatever it was called initially, has been given its official title: Tron Legacy. And the first trailer for what will certainly be a pants-creamer of a film has been released at this year's Comic-Con. Check it out here or watch it in the recommended HD version.

If any of you grew up in the 80s, Tron was one of those cool, but seemingly dorky films you came to love and appreciate. It wasn't some hand-animated schmaltz-fest with animals and moral lessons, it was a before its time story of artificially-intelligent computers bent on domination, crooked humans and a plucky young video game programmer. It was awesome, plain and simple. And the computer-generated animation and effects were light-years ahead of anything else in 1982. It was a film that fully immersed the viewer in an electronic world and sent imaginations in new directions. At least it did for me. Now, with a new film to open in 2011, we can re-visit this world again, this time with the help of new computer graphics, high-def images and sexy Olivia Wilde.

I'm in full-bore for this film, no matter how bad it could be. What will be the acid-test, however, for director Joseph Kosinski is if he does an admirable job with the remake of Logan's Run, one of my favourite films ever. It's slated to be released next year, and if he fucks that up, I will have diminished hopes for Tron Legacy. I'll still see it of course, but I won't have to bring back-up underwear.

TV Intros That Are Cooler Than You

2009-07-17T13:20:00.036-06:00

Last week, I wrote a post that very few people understood (my mother, for one) because it dealt with the personification of a non-sentient entity, namely the day known as Friday. Admittedly, I was kind of bored at work on an otherwise uneventful afternoon, so I decided to write something a little different. Big deal, is what I thought at the time. But I suppose that's not keeping with the original theme of this blog, which celebrated it's third anniversary last Saturday! Yay! What turned out to be a simple excuse to avoid doing any work, while actually looking like I'm during work, has made it to three years. Strange how the initial reason for starting this has stayed the same... Anyways, I'd like to bring this blog back to form. Back to it's roots. And that means talking about meaningless pop-culture banalities.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I decided to move to my parent's house a few months ago as a means to save money while I'm preparing to go back to school, and stay there while in school for the next couple years. This hasn't been as soul-crushingly terrible as I originally envisioned it, but rather, it's actually been fairly tolerable. Probably because my parents are fairly cool, and I'm a fucking man. However, the fact that they subscribe to Telus TV is going to introduce some serious conflicts very soon. Most concerning is that Telus TV does not carry AMC, and therefore I cannot watch first-run episodes of the new season of Mad Men. I am troubled by this, but I will find a way to circumvent my impending issue of contention. I suppose I could wait for it on DVD, but that's a stupid idea. How dare you even suggest that?

Since I've been thinking about Mad Men, and waiting for the new season, I've been watching previous episodes while frothing at the mouth and obtaining pleasure of the mind. If you've never watched the show, there's one thing that stands out right from second one: the opening credits. Opening credits don't just tell you who the actors are or who produced the show, they should set the tone, theme and style of the show. They serve the ultimate purpose: the credits should give you an idea on whether the show is amazing, mediocre, or fucking terrible. (anyone who remembers the opening credits for Full House or Dawson's Creek knows what I'm talking about).

Here are eleven of my favourite opening credit sequences that are the epitome of cool. Popsicle-Pete Double-Treat cool. Once you've seen their intro, you know that these shows are just going to kick serious ass. Times ten.

11. BAND OF BROTHERS

One of the best HBO series of all time has one of the best openings, which is hauntingly beautiful and striking. The images and score truly capture the style and quality of the show. Also, guns are cool.

10. LOST

Alright, this intro freaks me out. It's the shortest by far, but damn if it isn't effective. It sets a mood rife with disorientation, mystery and suspense, just as the show does (in its better seasons).

9. HAWAII FIVE-O

There was a time when a theme song made a TV show. As much as you want to argue that The Rembrandts' "I'll Be There For You" made Friends, it didn't. That song sucks, and Friends sucked. Hawaii Five-O on the other hand, is so damn sexy, I bet you got pregnant just making eye contact with Jack Lord.

8. KNIGHT RIDER

"A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist". That is fucking awesome! This was when David Hasselfhoff was the man, and not some McDonald's eating drunk. There were the usual 80's cheese in this show, but can you honestly say that the intro bass line doesn't bleed cool with every note?

7. THE X-FILES

Let me run down the awesomess for you: lots of creepy visuals, pre-sex obsessed David Duchovny, hot Gillian Anderson, UFO stuff, more creepy visuals, FBI things, conspiracies... All adds up to a fantastic show (that sadly lost its way a bit with the alien plot lines) with a fantastically moody opening.

6. THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN

If there was any intro that instantly made you think "Yes! If I try to jump from my sixth story apartment to the building next door, miss, and die after splattering my carcass across the pavement below, I can be brought back as a superhuman! We have the technology."

5 (tie). TWILIGHT ZONE AND THE OUTER LIMITS

Nobody did plot twists like these two shows, and their original intros set the standard for intros that make you uncomfortable, yet engaged. Though each series began airing in the late fifties and early sixties respectively, the mood and style are second to none. I'm creeped out while watching them, but I can't look away. Kind of like little people.

3. THE A-TEAM

The A-Team was a favourite show of mine as a kid, and the opening sequence is a thing of beauty. You want violence? You got it. You want an awesome back story about a rogue military outfit? You've got that, too. You want Mr. T giving you the most bad-ass look while in a car? You've got your cream-jeans on now.

2. MAD MEN

This is the best opening sequence on TV today. It's as sexy as ten young Elizabeth Taylors, and as cool as twenty Billy Dee Williams' (any age). The style of the 60's combined with the sense of losing control is played very effectively. It makes me dream of a simpler time of political incorrectness and drinking at work.

1. CAPTAIN POWER AND THE SOLDIERS OF THE FUTURE.

Before Terminator and The Matrix, there was Captain Power. Set in a world where man fought machine, and machine won (unsurprisingly - humans suck), this show was the best live-action show on Saturday morning. With special toy guns that interacted with the show, kids like me truly believed they were in a dystopic future. The intro has everything kids (like me) and adults (also me) want: violence, destruction and shiny costumes.

Any opening sequence I forgot? And don't say Dexter. I haven't watched it enough to blow my mind on its intro.

Friday

2009-07-10T16:19:00.009-06:00

I sit at my desk, peering out into the atrium two stories below, wondering if somehow the clock found a way to reverse itself. It seems like it’s only been a matter of minutes for hours now. The end of the day is so achingly close to being here. The end of another work week is almost ready to announce its arrival, and it could not come a moment too soon. I'm dying a slow death inside, because I want it so much. I need it.

Friday. It can’t get here fast enough. I almost want to scream out in irritated frustration. Why can’t I go now? Why can’t I run out of this building and caress Friday the way I want to, with such willful abandon and unbridled emotion that it would make all other days enraged with jealousy? Why can't I make Friday love me? The questions swirl and stir in my mind, repeating themselves louder and louder with each passing minute. I try to maintain calm as I remind myself that I have a very special task ahead.

I switch my glance away from the atrium and prompt my creative centres of my mind to get working on the duty at hand: seducing Friday night. A task very few have tried to undertake, and even fewer have succeeded in doing. I think about my plan; solid, but not too rigid. Free to flow, free to improvise. Friday and I will spend some quality time getting to know one another initially. Perhaps in some dimly-lit corner of a local tavern. Perhaps by the window of a trendy coffee shop. We'll start with some small talk about the towns we grew up in. Where we first went to school. Our best friends growing up. We’ll chat about our various hobbies, what we like to do when we have the time, what we’d love to do, if we had the time. Perhaps a well-placed joke, an engaging anecdote. It will get more and more casual as the time progresses, I’ll make sure of that. I don’t want to seem to anxious, but I don’t want to appear aloof, uncaring. I want to show just the right amount of interest to Friday, but I don’t want it to feel like I’m some love-struck geekboy, only wanting to see what Friday has underneath its irresistible exterior. I can see Friday now. It's curvaceous form, its unbridled sensuality. Of all the days, Friday knows it's the one most coveted, most thought over, most desired.

Our conversation will inevitably dance around topics such as past or present loves. When this happens, I'll begin to become a bit more cynical, bitter, showing a vulnerable side Friday won't resist in prying for more information. I'll reluctantly reveal some heartfelt feelings to Friday, but not in any obvious way, but with an air of nonchalance, which may pique Friday's curiosity. It'll start to wonder if there is more to me than this masculine shroud I wear, more to me than my flippant descriptions of those who have made my heart seem cold. When this happens, my plan will come to its zenith. Friday will be drawn in with thoughts of a man whose mystery and vulnerability may frighten it initially, but its fear will be replaced with an urge to get to know me more. Get to know the real man inside.

And with that, my plan will have almost succeeded. By tonight's end Friday will know that it's the one day I can't live without. It's the day I won't live without.

The only way my plan can fail is if Friday finds out about Saturday. It's not my fault that Saturday turned the tables on me, but Saturday could captivate anyone with it's beguiling charms. I know I'm weak. If my plan with Friday doesn't work out, I will crawl back to Saturday. Saturday is hot, though.

You won't say a word, will you?

Thriller. He Made Thriller.

2009-06-25T18:09:00.001-06:00

Some initial thoughts on the death of Michael Jackson.

I could say 'alleged death' because although it's probably a foregone conclusion that he's dead, it's still not totally confirmed by everyone in the world. But if TMZ reports that he's dead, he's probably dead. They're pretty good with getting their reporters to sneak into places. I'm sure some Hollywood nightclubs have better security than most hospitals. At the time that I write this, CNN doesn't have confirmation that he's dead, just the noted fact from a family friend that the "family is sobbing". I don't know how often a whole family sobs over a coma, so let's assume Michael's passed on. So here's some thoughts.

I heard something on the drive home from work that really irked me. Some lady called into the radio station I was listening to and said that it "wasn't that I don't care, but I think he got what he deserved. He has been punished for his sins on earth". I had to really ponder this comment, which certainly on the surface seems like some smug religious "I told you so" garbage. And it is, but as I listened to more and more of the calls-in, I could hear a definite thread to most of the calls. A startling majority of what I heard confirmed a notion that nobody cares about Michael Jackson anymore, that he's a pervert, that he's a psycho and that the world is better off now that he's gone. I just can't agree to that, and here's why.

Every news story is going to have two angles right now: Jackson the artist and Jackson the accused child molester/weirdo. Sadly, it's the latter that is going to, and has gotten, everyone worked up. I have chosen to look at this passing of Jackson pragmatically. I'm going to look at the facts, not as a fan or a detractor, but as a purveyor of the truth. And the truth is this: The world will forever be in debt to him. That's a fact, worthy of dispute or not. There are things that are undeniable: He was one of the greatest performers of all time, some could argue the absolute greatest. His music transcended all boundaries, both natural and man-made. His influence on future generations of people from any walk of life is incredible and eternal. His musical credits are immortal. It's safe to say that Michael Jackson will be immortal.

Those are facts as I see them. Regardless of our own feelings about his personal life, there are things that aren't facts. Aren't true is everything that has been written in the tabloids, mainstream media or any other medium that doesn't concern his music or things that Jackson himself hasn't admitted to. I have to believe in innocence until proven guilty. I have to believe in the law. If the law could not prove, confirm or convict any of the things that he allegedly did, I can't objectively say that he "got what he deserved" by dying. In life and now in death, I can only imagine that he lived a horrid, tortured life where half the world despised him. So why would we want to cloud his passing and smear his legacy with hearsay?

Am I a huge fan? No. But I have to give credit where credit's due. I think the correct viewpoint for us would be that we look at what Michael Jackson actually DID, not what he was accused of doing, and judge him based on that. Therefore, I will remember Michael Jackson as an unsurpassed talent, a legendary artist and a phenomenal performer, something that will never been seen again.

And Thriller. He made Thriller.

RIP Michael Jackson. You're finally going to be left alone.

The Truth Does Make A Noise

2009-06-16T18:39:00.007-06:00

And The White Stripes are the truth.

You know what I'm talking about if you've seen them live. Thankfully, pretty much all of Canada has, thanks to special tour two years ago.

Continuing with a little more news involving Jack White, I've come across another wonderfully exciting story today. It's been reported that the Stripes are going to be releasing a documentary film about the cross-Canada tour they did in June and July of '07. This makes my mind melt. In a good way, though. Like the way cheese slowly melts on a perfectly barbecued burger. Or when you let your favourite popsicle get soft and drip just a tiny bit before you eat it. My mind has melted because this news gives me the chance to watch and own a concert that was 6 years worth waiting for. A concert that was the celebration of musical talents I dreamed of seeing. Yearned to see. A concert I was often heard to remark that I'd "fucking die to see". And it happened on June 30, 2007.

I had picked up The White Stripes third album, "White Blood Cells" in the spring of 2002 in a shitty CD store in mall near my home (for anyone familiar with St. Albert, remember "AV Entertainment"? Yeah, it sucked). I had recently seen the absolutely mesmerizing video for "Fell In Love With A Girl", directed by Michel Gondry, and needed to have whatever album that song came from. Lego had never gotten me so excited. For the whole summer of 2002, I played that disc, and the preceding two albums relentlessly. I couldn't believe how much raw power came from a band with only two members. As the years went on, the Stripes became one of my favourite bands, a band that I would use songs by to represent my own emotions, thoughts and other things I thought would be better expressed by the howling blues-symphony the band created. And then one spring, in April of 2007, the Stripes announced that they would be touring Canada. And not just Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal. But the whole damn country. Every province. Every territory. No Canadian act had ever done it, so they'd be the first of any nationality to accomplish the feat. I had to check the tour schedule, and I wasn't to be disappointed. There it was: "Edmonton - June, 30. Shaw Conference Centre".

Alright, maybe a little hint of disappointment was felt. I mean, a band as great as this, playing in a cave-like auditory graveyard like the Shaw? Granted, Rexall Place would be too artificial and unfriendly, and no promoter would let them play a small venue. I had to really look at the big picture. I mean, the fucking White Stripes were going to be playing Edmonton! When the tour actually started, you could feel that it was going to be something special. Right from the onset, rumours of secret shows started to surface. Then those rumours became fact. The Stripes played on busses, boats, in parks, anywhere. You didn't know where they might play, but there were hints on their message boards. In Edmonton, they played at the Hope Mission's youth shelter, which can be seen in the video here:

And word was coming out that the main shows were becoming legendary experiences. As for my own experience at the Edmonton show, it was marred a bit by my misguided need to witness it with somebody specific who was also at the show. A certain person who has been both the utmost desire and cruel bane of my existence for many years, and only recently whose memory I've now shed from my mind. I kept on trying to look for this person, with whom I could share the wondrous experience, but I never found her. Instead of concentrating on the music, my attention was divided. I'll now never forgive myself for that. This documentary will allow me to at least re-live some of that concert in the way it should have been viewed: by me and for me.

The documentary will show the White Stripes as they are: the truth. And that truth will make an substantial noise.

It Might Get Messy

2009-06-10T12:20:00.008-06:00

On August 14th, it may get a little bit out of control. In my mind.

Provided that at theatre in Edmonton carries it, this film may just put me so far over the edge, sonically, visually and emotionally, that I might just lose it. All of it. And I'd be embarrassed if it wasn't because of something immensely awesome, but something less than spectacular. Like have you ever found yourself close to a friend or family member and witness them just wig out for no good reason? Have you ever been just sitting at your desk, checking off items on your menial work task list, when a co-worker explodes in a bat-shit insane rage, throwing paper and random office objects around while uttering a slew of cuss words a mile long, only because the fax number he dialed was busy? Yeah, that's embarrassing. Or maybe it's Thanksgiving, and after you mention to your mother that the turkey "could use a bit of salt or something", she upends the dining table using the strength of ten men, then chases you and the rest of your family around the house with a meat cleaver, uttering vague threats like "I'll show YOU what needs to have a little salt!"? Yeah, that's kind of embarrassing, but also a little scary. Your mom needs help.

Well, I won't feel any embarrassment or awkwardness if I go a little crazy when I see It Might Get Loud. Not only does it have two of my favourite musicians in Jimmy Page and Jack White, but it also has The Edge from U2 thrown in for good measure. It's sure to be a wonderful documentary about two legends and one certainly on his way to gaining that special status. Check out the trailer:

Yeah, I'm pretty much going to look like this for all 97 minutes of the film.

A Legend Has Passed Away

2009-06-04T16:46:00.003-06:00

David Carradine has been found dead.

RIP Caine. RIP Bill. You've taken the pebble from our hands, and now it is time for you to leave.

A Riverdale Bachelor No More

2009-05-29T13:35:00.008-06:00

Well, he finally did it. Took him damn long enough.

After 600 issues and 67 years, Archibald Andrews has finally made up his effing mind. No longer is he content to dangle his committed affections in front of two lovely ladies. He's made his choice, and he's going for the money.

On the cover of the newest issue of Archie, Archie is shown proposing to Veronica Lodge ("Ronnie" to some, "that rich bitch" to others), while his best pal, Forsythe P. Jones, aka, "Jughead" and Betty Cooper, aka "the blond one that Archie did it with" look on. But there seems to be so much more involved than just this awkward scene. Let's really disect the scene, and try to gain a true understanding of what the story's about, without actually reading the comic.

As with all Archie stories involving him or any of the sub-characters, the cover is always misleading. It has to be, otherwise why would anyone read the comic at all? Mostly the cover involves variations of the following scenarios: Archie looking at girls, Jughead eating, Moose being dumb, Dilton being smart, Reggie being a dick, etc., etc. Pretty boring shit, but it's that shit that's been popular for over half a century. It's an easy read, and it's pure Americana (Americans like static character stereotypes). But this latest cover shows something we thought would never happen: Archie actually getting married, and not dying from contracting numerous fatal sexually-transmitted infections. But the cover only tells a fraction of the story. Let's see if there's anything else going on.

Who the hell proposes in a jewelry store? Did he just buy a ring and then give it to her? This choice of location reeks of Veronica's own agenda rearing it's ugly head. Ronnie has always had a substantial amount of control and power over Archie, and it could be that she tricked him into "looking at rings" at the store, then again, tricked him into proposing by doing that thing girls do. You know, when they say, "why don't you pretend that you're proposing to your future wife?" Then the girls claim they were the actual target, and your proposal is tantamount to a verbal contractual agreement. So she may have just fooled him into asking for her hand. That vile temptress! This is just the type of maleovent scheming Veronica's capable of, and she's now putting her diabolical plan into action, stealing away Archie from the safe, soothing shores of Lake Betty. And she's doing it while Betty watches. How cruel a fate is that?

But wait, let's look at this from another angle. Why is Jughead AND Betty watching from a conveniently located window? Jughead was probably just eating in the food court, getting closer and closer to his life-ending diabetes, heart-failure or complete bodily shutdown from all the food he's ingested, but what's Betty doing there? Perhaps she was stalking him, as I figure she would be. Betty seems like a good girl on the outside, but she may be hiding a true malevolent nature. It's been said that the greatest cruelty can come from the kindest heart, and since Betty is the nicest character, she's probably also bat-shit insane. She's been sick of Archie always dumping her for Ronnie, just so he can use her pool and piss off her dad by humping his daughter and breaking household heirlooms. So Betty stalks him, with the thought that one day, he'll be all hers. "We'll always be together", she says, "and if I can't have him, then no one will!" Classic Fatal Attraction-type dementia. Archie's probably caught on to this behaviour, and since calls to the cops have solved nothing, nor have any restraining orders, he's resorted to one last move before Betty kills him - he'll get married. That should shut Betty up for good, right? I see this story ending in a lot of people dead.

And then there's Jughead. He didn't really chase girls, and I always thought he was gay, so this proposal shouldn't bother him.

So how does this story end? It probably ends with Archie waking up in a cold sweat, thanking the sweet Lord that it was all a dream. He kisses his black book and his box of condoms, and gets back to work, seducing and bedding the impressionable young women of Riverdale. Archie's kind of a whore.

To The Gorge!

2009-05-21T11:11:00.004-06:00

I wish I could write a better blog post than this one, but I'm too damn excited. I would have to say that my excitement level is bordering on "6-year-old on Christmas-Eve trying not to pass-out from presents-expectation mania". And if you know me and how often I express emotion (which is basically never), that's a pretty agitated state. Why am I so excited? Because I'm heading off for a week's holiday.

Is it deserved? Probably not. I don't work as an air-traffic controller or a Wall Street day trader, or any other job that requires mandatory vacations to stave off suicide, but I have a holiday, nonetheless. And I'm spending at the Sasquatch Music Festival. I'll be seeing Kings of Leon, Nine Inch Nails, Jane's Addiction, and many, many more (like TV On The Radio, The Walkmen, The Gaslight Anthem, Zach Galifianakis, etc.). You may commence your mean-spirited taunts and shouts of hate towards me any time. I don't mind. Just think, while you're slaving over numbers and spreadsheets or other kinds of mind-numbing minutiae, I'll be enjoying the Gorge Amphitheatre in Washington state. If you look at the picture, I'm sure you can imagine how awesome it will be, and what kind of amazed look I'll have on my face while I'm there. And I know you want to punch that face, but hey, if I was in your position, I'd probably wish violent thoughts, too. Cut me some slack, though. I go on 1.5 vacations a year. You probably go on many more, becuase you think you need to. Every other day, you whine and lament that you "just need to get away for a while", and you ask "why am I working?" or you cry that you "just hate this weather - why do I live here?". You know what? Saying things like that makes me want to punch you. Many times.

So have a great week, and I'll see you when I get back! (That message was for my parents, because I know they're the only ones who read this blog - the rest of you say you do, but you don't, because you still think the internet is for virgin nerds)

Black Goooold!

2009-05-08T17:52:00.018-06:00

Since I'm in the market for a new vehicle (I've had mine for three years now. That's like 106 car years), I occasionally glance at car ads in the paper, look at other cars on the road, and sometimes, just sometimes, I actually watch a car commercial. Normally when I watch TV, I usually press 'mute' on the remote and come up with my own dialogue for the car ads. It's just that they're so stupid, and they treat the viewer like a complete moron, so I figure it's fair treatment. I'm sure my dialogue would probably get people more interested in the cars, because I use many hilariously rude phrases and obscenities. It seems like every car commercial is a shitty derivative of the following few scenarios: car dealership has sale and people run frantically to the dealership as if not buying a car right away will give them shitty cancer (colon, or worse). Or, a car is shown driving awesomely down a mountain road, or in a desert, or by the ocean (not seen is the car waiting in a KFC line, being driven by some lard ass waiting for a 20-piece-all-for-him bucket). Or there's some happy family who's lives have been made a zillion times better now that they've got a mini-van which has a shut-the-kids-up DVD player. All car commercials now have ridiculously fradulent scenarios and you're an idiot if any commercial actually makes you want to buy a car.

But there was a time when the car commercial was a thing of beauty, something to look at and thank god you lived in the sexy '70s or excessive '80s. Commercials that just made you want to buy that car, go to a disco and have anonymous sex with just about anything, as long as it had plenty of body hair. Whilst perusing the internet today, I just happened to come across this beauty. Jalopnik has a great article on this perhaps being the worst car commercial ever, but they're wrong. It drips with a shimmering sexual prowess, a fuzzy lip-trimmed ferocity. Plus, it has light-up displays for car-related things.

Good god. If I was a female, this commercial would certainly seduce me, have sex with me, impregnate me, and then speed away, never to be seen from again, except maybe during a chance encounter on a beach in South Miami. But since I'm a man, it only makes me dream. Dream of a better time when commercials looked like this. Dream of another life where I could have an intense moustache and an equally intense stare that just erodes the clothes off women. A dream of driving this Datsun with the California coast or Manhattan skyline in the background, doing a line of blow off of a hot blonde, who's named Candy or Amber, her hand jammed between my legs while my own hand feverishly grips the gear-shift, all while my speed increases faster and faster towards infinity.

Sadly, the commercials of today don't give me cause to dream. Their ads touch upon things I just don't care about. I don't care about child safety. I don't care about 12 airbags. I don't care about storage capacity. There's nothing sexy about fucking storage capacity. I care about looking like Alfred Molina in "Boogie Nights", picking up random girls who could be hookers but I'm too high to know for sure, and ramming the gas pedal through the floor while "Splash Wave" from Outrun plays for all eternity.

Reality always wins, though. I'll probably end up with a Focus.

Another Shining Example Of Television Quality

2009-04-28T13:55:00.002-06:00

Being a Shaw TV customer for my whole life, it was strange for me to hear that my parents went with Telus TV when they moved to their new house two years ago. Our house grew up with Shaw, we laughed, learned and lived with Shaw. I memorized the channels and had to re-memorize whenever a channel moved. I watched with rapt attention at the exhilarating hours of enjoyment that only watching a simple fireplace or Thanksgiving turkey could give, all thanks to Shaw. But Telus? Could they give the same amount of picture tube love and shoddy customer service that Shaw regularly gave? Alright, so Telus already has a lock on treating customers like retarded lepers through their phone services, but I want quality TV programming and channel selection. Would Telus meet my expectations? Would Telus offer me only the finest TV this great world has to offer? Unfortunately, no. But fortunately for Telus, it's not their fault. It's the fault of one specialty channel that's only contributing to the TV quality watershed mark.

Having recently made a life-altering decision in my life (going back to school), I've found myself once again living with my parents (a post on this topic will come soon). Since TV is a massive part of my life because of it's regular spewing of popular culture and my need to lap that culture up, I was interested to see what Telus could offer where Shaw could not. To my grand disappointment, I noticed some channels were missing like AMC and Encore Avenue (no first-run Mad Men this summer? No unedited movies? Fuck that!). I also noticed some channels that I've never watched but heard of, like G4 TV. Primarily a channel for tech dorks, it features shows on video gaming, video game reviews, video game news, and some other things that may or may not include video games. Now I'm not a gamer per se, mostly because I'm too interested in girls, but I was once an avid gamer as a kid (Blockbuster Video Game Store Champion, 1994), so I watch the channel every now and then. One show that everybody should see is Attack of the Show. Not because it has groundbreaking information and entertainment value, but because it has Olivia Munn as a co-host. Good God, she's hot. And she blogs! I mean, look at her!

But it's not all geeks and hot ladies on G4. There's also this piece of garbage, which features morons.

Hurl! is a blatant attempt at gross-out entertainment, or gross-tainment. The name describes the premise of the show as straight-forward as possible. Contestants eat food. They do physical stuff. They hurl! Woah! As the Hurl! website describes it, it's "...representing an entirely new type of competition, HURL! combines speed-eating with intense physical challenges all designed to shake up the competitors...it's an eating competition with an extreme sports chaser!" Basically, the show has dudes, mostly frat-douchebag-idiot types, and some girls who really thought "being on TV" would be awesome, that gorge on shitty food like mac and cheese, then try not to barf while they go on a carnival ride or something like that. Now, as we know, Americans love to watch people gorge themselves on food, like some kind of patriotic and competitive "fuck you" to starving people elsewhere in the world, but this show is going too far. Check out this captivating video!

Yeah. There's no doubt. This is the worst show on television. This is even worse than Toddlers & Tiaras, and that show pretty much just caters to pedophiles and psycho mothers. The inherent problem is that we have to look at what we really find amusing and entertaining. Do we as a society find throwing up to be that entertaining, as long as it's not us? Who has ever seen a child throw up at the supermarket, only to think, "Fuck! That's hilarious! The image and the smell really made my day!" Have you ever had a friend complain of a stomach virus or flu, and you asked them if you could film it, because shit, you had a tough day and could use a laugh? Puking is only funny in a couple situations, like when a fat guy enters a pie-eating contest to get revenge on his fellow townsfolk. Or when kids take a carnival ride after eating chewing tobacco. It's certainly not funny when you start drinking at noon one day, then after playing some late night poker, your friend convinces you to pound shots of Butter Ripple Schnapps, and you vomit all over the back interior of the car driving you home (sorry Joe, and thanks a lot Greg).

So what's really the attraction here? Are we getting so mentally challenged that we've now resorted to bodily rejections as entertainment? How low will TV slide into cultural depths even Philistines would consider beneath them? Because of these types of shows, and our increasing tendency to reward the stupid, are we expanding the ever-widening quality gap between good and disturbingly bad? So much so that people will no longer value the good? Are we inching closer and closer to this type of show?

EMBED-ow my balls - Watch more free videos

I hope not, for our sakes. But from the looks of it, we're steering that way. For fuck's sake, Hurl! is a show about people eating massive amounts of food, then trying not to throw up. Hell, I can watch that happen live every Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family. Obviously, the only solution to these types of television abortions is to not watch. Yes, I know you want to, but don't. If we can tank the ratings, then hopefully it gets pulled. If you can ignore Hurl! I'll let you watch The Hills without making fun of you. And you know I want to, and you know you deserve it.

The Eleven Worst Things We're Doing On Facebook

2009-04-16T09:53:00.003-06:00

I've been a Facebook user for over two years now, and I can honestly say that it's probably going to soon replace the television as the one technological "device" that parents will warn their children about. Not that it will make your eyes bad if you use it too often, or that kids will learn bad behavioural traits by emulating what they see, but rather that they will become stupider while using Facebook.

My mom always used to warn my sister and I that we shouldn't watch too much TV, but instead go outside or read more. Mostly, she just wanted us to help out with household duties instead of watching cartoons. She held firm to the belief that we'd slowly become "as dumb as a bag of hammers" as we got older if we continued to be obsessed by television. Thankfully, my mom was incorrect in her assertion, but at least her intentions were sincere. I know that what my mom really wanted us to do was to break away from the vice-like grip of the picture tube and really understand the world around us (somehow helping out around the house did this, I guess). Mom knew that eventually, if we couldn't associate with anything outside the realm of even a lowly sitcom, then we were doomed to become what TV panders to the most: the lowest common denominator. When one occupies their time with a sole medium, it stands to reason that the worst of that medium slowly becomes the standard. Eventually, TV will no longer be able to provide the viewer with the best all the time, so gradually, the worst becomes the best. People who watch so much TV will watch just about anything at a point, no matter how contrived or retarded it is (hence, The Hills).

And that's what Facebook has become. So many people use it constantly and religiously, that stupid things or behaviours that they may have avoided when they first starting using, now have become the normal routine. The worst has become the standard.

Here are the Eleven Worst Things We're Doing On Facebook. And when I say "we're", I mostly mean "you're". You're doing them mostly because you're lazy, but also because you're not really thinking that much on Facebook anyways. I'm doing pretty well, even for being an idiot.

11. "Confirming", but not attending

Everyone has been invited to about a billion and one things, and nobody cares anymore about any event they don't have a vested interest in. So what do we do? We confirm our attendance with no intention of attending. What does that do? Inflates the potential attendance numbers and gets the host all excited. If you're doing this, stop. You're being a jerk, and making the host feel sad (and pathetic).

10. Inviting everybody to everything

An alternate version of number 10 is people who invite everyone on their friends list to every event, regardless of where their friends live. Guess what, Mensa candidates, I don't live in Toronto, or BC or anywhere else. I live in Edmonton. That means I'll probably only attend things in Edmonton (to be fair, I probably won't attend some Edmonton things if I have to drive far). So stop inviting me to things like your "Struggling Student Art Fair and Luncheon" in Winnipeg. I'm not fucking going.

9. Actually reading the ads on the right sidebar

If you're at a point where the ads on the right are actually becoming interesting or perhaps worth doing, you're getting stupider. "28 Year Old Millionaire"? "New Workout Secrets"? "Get A Hot Girlfriend/Meet Women With Money"? Ooh, these sound great! I'm sure the last one really works. I'm sure I'd love to tell people that I met my girlfriend through a Facebook ad, or that a really rich woman resorted to FB as a dating service. How many of these ads are really fronts for prostitution, I wonder.

8. Poking people

Are you still doing this? Stop it. Now. Send a message, lazy. This needs to be removed, like the way "giving gifts" was taken out. All this proves is that you can continue performing a monotonous task. Monkeys can complete monotonous tasks. Hell, even mice can.

7. Tagging a picture, which has the back of someone's head

Pretty self-explanatory. Thanks for the photo tag of my back side. It totally proves that I was at that event/activity, but doesn't prove that you like me enough to ask me to pose for a picture face-forwards.

6. The Living Social application

We've all grown up on music video countdown shows, top ten lists and likes and dislikes on our yearbooks. We love rating things and letting everyone else know what we love or hate with a blind passion. However, the Living Social app is fucking clogging up my homepage! Nobody cares what your "top five Hilary Duff films" are. Someone explain to me what the Living Social application is doing that our "Info" section isn't doing? Huh? I guess it doesn't let you proclaim what you hate, and we love letting people know the "5 worst countries to live in"! Take that Haiti!

5. Posting a viral video months after it was popular

Yes, I posted "Jizz In My Pants", but I did it the week it came out last December. You posted it last week. We all love viral videos, but they're viral for a reason: Everybody on the planet has seen it, gotten an email about it or dreamt about it. You're not awesome because you can paste a Youtube link. Chances are that when you post a video, 20% of your friends already did it weeks ago. Sadly, that means you lose.

4. Becoming a fan of something obvious or idiotic

These are getting out of hand, and incredibly retarded. "Amy is a fan of sleeping" REALLY AMY? You're a fan of sleeping? Hot fucking damn! So am I! Let's be friends forever! And you're also a fan of eating! Woah! That's so awesome, because I thought I was the only one. Be a fan of bands, movies, etc. Don't be a fan of living, because that's pretty damn obvious.

3. Saying you "like" this

This is one of the dumbest additions to Facebook, yet it's popularity seems to have overcome its stupidity. The problem is that too many people are just clicking "like this" because they have nothing of value to contribute. They are bereft of any intelligent comment. "John had an amazing night tonight!" Rick likes this. What the hell are you liking, Rick? There are no details there. "Susan posted a link - Thousands of refugees flee war-torn Thailand" Jane likes this. You're fucking sick, Jane.

2. Bad spelling, grammar and internet lingo
Does anyone actually look at what they type before they hit enter? Ever? What are you, five? Spelling and grammar can't be stressed enough, and you hear everyone complain about it (whether they're culprits or not), but it's still happening. Things like mistaking "your" and "you're", "to" and "too" and "they're", "their" and "there". Misspelling words like "definately" and "rediculus". Using "lol" after every fucking thing you say, like you're some delirious lunatic (really, are you actually laughing out loud all the time?). Stop contributing to the dumbing down of the internet. It doesn't need your help.

1. The Status Update/"What's On Your Mind"

The worst thing that you're doing on Facebook is what was once the status update bar. It seems that our lives have become so mundane, so banal, that even the simplest and most innocuous are supposed to be interesting to your friends. A sub-list of the worst status updates:

- status-baiting (Sam is excited! EXCITED FOR WHAT, SAM? WHY WON'T YOU TELL US?)
- counting down from too many days out (Jack can't wait for Mexico! Only 108 days away! Ooh! I'm excited for you too, Jack! Three and a half months from now, I'll be really jealous. In the meantime, I'll try to care)
- inspirational updates (If you write one after a tough day to lift up your spirits, sure. If you're writing one every day, you're a douchebag and nobody likes you).
- some random shit nobody understands (Julia peeps ur kewl bandies. What the fuck does that even mean?)
- what you're doing right now! (Matt is eating beans. Melissa is watching House. Thanks for the updates, dickwads. Scintillating stuff)

Basically, use the "what's on your mind" bar to tell people what's on your mind. Don't bore everyone with the stupid everyday details. That's what Twitter's for.

Facebook was designed to get people in touch with one another, much like the early televisions did. But now, we're way past that. We're now so caught up with the apparent need to be on Facebook, that we've thrown out any of the original goals. Facebook has de-evolved into a haven for the lazy, the thoughtless and the uninspired. Facebook has seen it's glory days, and now they're over. All we can really do now is look at other people's pictures, maybe quote a song every now and then, write a short piece about whatever, and just make fun of everything and everyone. You're supposed to be using Facebook to impress people, not facilitating their ridicule of you.

True Patriot Love - Part One

2009-04-06T22:05:00.016-06:00

I'd like to introduce a new feature here on Rhymes With Tyler - True Patriot Love. Each feature of TPL will focus on a piece of pop culture history that's purely Canadian, or at least has a strong Canadian tie. From The Raccoons and Canada Dry Cranberry Ginger Ale, to Test Pattern and Video & Arcade Top Ten, I'll be writing about true pop culture Canadiana. Which is basically whatever I watched on Canadian TV or ate in my formative pop culture years (1985-1996). Truth be told, I always get a sense of patriotic pride whenever I see or read about these things, and I'm hoping so will you.

I wrote a pilot article last July entitled "That's Enough Already, K-Tel", which was my rant about K-Tel, the Canadian record compilation and shitty product peddling giant. K-Tel pretty much ran a monopoly on record compilations from the 1970's on, churning out album after album with no regard for human auditory misery. Their iron grip on the industry loosened a bit with the efforts of one man. Nay, one incredibly awesome British DJ! Chris Sheppard!

Alright, he wasn't actually a Brit, but damn if his fake accent didn't throw you off. Chris Sheppard was actually a leading figure in the Canadian dance music scene from the 80's to the end of the 90's, and he was an omnipresent force in the record industry in this country. I mean, it seemed for a while that there wasn't a week that went by that didn't have a new Chris Sheppard complation album come out. Destination Dance Floor, Club Cutz, Groove Station and my personal favourite, Pirate Radio Sessions. All with volumes 1 through a fucking billion. Every time I'd watch MuchMusic, there he'd be in the commercial break, with some new album we just had to buy, or else. After a while, it just got sad. I could almost predict the next commercial would be him saying something like "Chris Sheppard's Bunch of Tunes with Annoying Bass Lines and Stupid Chicks Singing The Same Shitty Chorus! Volume 32! Buy my album! I'm living in a trailer!" This commercial is the icing on the cake - Chris Sheppard in his heyday. I can't believe that he stated, without hyperbole, that that particular compilation is the best compilation in music history! Craaaaaazy! It did have The Real McCoy on it, I suppose.

Seriously, though, what was up with that accent? Years have gone by, and all I can think about when someone says "Hey dork, remember Chris Sheppard?", is his accent. Check out this video, and then this one. Did he honestly have that accent for his "persona"? People hate it when other people talk in accents that suck, for no reason other than to get attention, or that it makes them laugh. I used to work with a guy who'd start talking in some shitty British-Scottish-Douche mix, and I honestly wanted him to fall into a vat of corrosive industrial chemicals. Kind of like the chemicals the Joker fell into, but instead of creating a criminal mastermind, they'd just disinegrate skin and bone. Nobody EVER likes a fake accent. Faking a Swedish accent to make fun of customers in IKEA? Ok, sure. Faking an obnoxious French accent at a party with cute girls? No dice, moron.

Chris Sheppard has since retired and is living in Toronto, but even though I never bought or listened to any of his albums, be it a compilation, a BKS or Love Inc. album, he has a place in true pop culture Canadiana. For his stupid accent, his mind-numbing albums and that annoying "Broken Bones" song I had to hear 8 billion times at the bar, Chris Sheppard, you have earned some True Patriot Love.

Pointless Nostalgia 8: Snack Fruit Is Always The Sweetest

2009-03-23T21:36:00.024-06:00

No, the picture to the left is not of a character from Alien Nation. Nor is it a vampire that's just been stabbed with a vial of the anticoagulant EDTA by Blade. Nope, it's just some kid that's had an extreme reaction to a lunchtime treat, and from the looks of it, a bad allergic reaction.

This edition of Pointless Nostalgia brings us back to school, and more specifically, the lunch hour we always looked forward to while there. While we were incarcerated in our provincially-sponsored educational jails, the few times we had to have a little fun on our own were cherished as the temporal treasures they were. From kindergarten to Grade 9, recess (short or long), gym class (for the athletic) or field trips (fun ones, not educational ones) provided a much needed respite to allow kids to be kids, that is, act stupid. Lunch was another one of those treasured times, but it wasn't the kids who got to act stupid. It was the parents. The parents who packed their kids' lunches.

Today I had to pop into Safeway to pick up a few things, when I found myself wandering aimlessly, as I often do at Safeway (there's just so much to look at!). I really like to watch people in all their grocery shopping glory and make internal comments about their choices. Mostly, I try to mentally urge overweight people to put away the 24-packs of pop. That's packs, as in many more than one. After catching a glimpse of an attractive lady, I stumbled into the aisle that had some nutritious things, like bran bars and other stuff that tastes like flavoured nut and particle board. In amongst the healthy and tasty snack façade, I saw something I thought went the way of Gene Siskel.

Gushers were still being made? And people were still buying this shit?

For the uninitiated, Gushers are one of many "fruit" snacks that claimed to be a good substitute for candy in children's lunches or any time that kids clamoured for a sugary treat. While it may be true that the snack contained Vitamin C (25% of the daily recommended, in fact), basically it was candy, just in a different form. Looking at this nutritional panel, one pack contained 13 grams of sugar. Sure, they're not Dunkaroos, but come on. If any parent bought these, and thought it would be a good source of nutrition, then they've failed the test of parenting, and repo men should be by shortly to repossess their children. No, Gushers were candy, and nobody should be fooled into thinking they're something different.

Also, they tasted like shit.

Seriously, I hated Gushers and their stupid commercials. The way the "juice" squirted into your mouth after biting was a rather disgusting sensation. However, since I grew up through the eighties and early nineties, I experienced the heyday of fruit snack development and selection. I yearn for the days when there was a plethora of fruit snacks that looked like stuff, or were based on things. Back then, fruit snacks were another juvenile status symbol, like name-brand clothing and top-of-the-line school supplies. If you had the best fruit snacks, the coolest lunchtime edibles, then you could be a god. And I'm sure if God ate fruit snacks, he'd eat any one of the following:

Probably the very first ever-versatile fruit snack was Fruit Roll-Ups. Every kid has eaten a Fruit Roll-up in North America. It's a part of our culture. In fact, I think you have to name at least three flavours on the American citizenship test. If you didn't have FRUs at some point in your school year, you might as well have been a leper or someone who wears Levi's Orange Tabs. After FRUs got a little boring, Betty Crocker decided to make "pop-outs", where kids could pop shapes out and play with them. That was pretty much as stupid as it sounds. It's a malleable jelly sheet, it's not an action figure.

In the late eighties/early nineties, Betty Crocker rolled out Fruit By The Foot, which was exactly like Fruit Roll-Ups, but longer! It boasted "3 feet of fun!" FBTF was pretty cool, mostly for the fact that you could whip your friends with it. However, I went to a Catholic school, and using the excuse "I'm pretending to whip Jesus" doesn't tend to go over that well. (commercial).

Among the many "shaped" fruit snacks out there, there was one that soared above the rest and rained flavour bombs on their homes. Thunder Jets Fruit Snacks. Sure, anyone could eat dinosaurs, gummi bears, sharks or whatever popular kids' TV show or movie was out at the time, but only the bravest children could eat fruit snacks shaped after jet-planes. Seems now like a blatant attempt to get boys to eat fruit (of any nature), but methinks there's an underlying attempt by the Air Force to get entrenched into kids' psyches early on. I know when I ate these, I just wanted to buzz the tower and play some shirtless volleyball.

But the greatest fruit snack of them all proved the age-old saying: "Kids like candy, moron". So what better way to disguise a fruit snack, then by fashioning it after pop? Enter Sodalicious. Every kid likes pop (except for the diabetics), so this was a natural move. Kids like the idea of having pop as a snack, and parents are dumb enough to believe that this should be a part of a healthy lunch. Look at the commercial! The memories! Who doesn't remember squawking the same "So, Sodalicious!" line over and over again? And everybody had their favourite flavour. Out of the flavours like Cherry, Cola and Orange, I think everyone had a special place in their hearts for Root Beer. If anyone anywhere has some Sodalicious still in a cupboard or something, I'll give up my first born child for it. Please note that the odds are slim on a child being conceived by me any time soon (on purpose, anyway), so I'll probably just end up threatening you for them.

Watchmen Update!

2009-03-11T13:50:00.008-06:00

Last post I pondered whether or not the new film "Watchmen" could live up to the universe-crushing amount of hype surrounding it prior to its release.

After seeing it on Friday, I needed the last few days to digest, decompress and calm the fuck down. Because I can say without hyperbole, that it lived up to the hype, times ELEVENTY-BILLION INFINITY.

Yeah, it was pretty good. So good that an image of the film now graces my office computer, and that's a HUGE deal. I don't just blanket my monitor with shitty Microsoft stock images. I only want the best when I turn on my screen, so that I can begin the day feeling a bit more awesome than when I arrived at work.

So why are you still reading this? If you're at work, leave! If you're at school, absolutely leave! If you're at home, leave, then get a job. Get out to your closest theatre and prepare to get your nuts smashed.

Who's Watching The Watchmen?

2009-03-06T13:27:00.011-07:00

In a few hours, I will be watching the 'Watchmen'. And I hate the fact that I've had to wait so long to see this film. I just hate time so much.

As a big fan of the graphic novel that made it's debut in 12 issues between 1986 and 1987, I have been looking forward to this film like any other average fan. I haven't been sleeping well. I haven't really been eating (that might set me apart from a lot of fans, actually. A lot of fans are fat.). I've been thinking about this film, the characters, the script, the directing, whether or not the craft services were good, if the grips did their jobs well, if I can make any good Halloween costumes from this, etc., etc. Basically, because of this film, I've been making myself stupid...more so than usual.

Back in July, I posted the first trailer for Watchmen, and I asked myself some very important questions. Questions like, "Will 'Watchmen' give me the same neural orgasm that '300' did? Will 'Watchmen' have the same grossly exaggerated amount of slow-motion scenes, possibly making the movie 6 1/2 hours long? Will I have to go to the bathroom during the middle of it, forcing me to contemplate whether or not I have to piss myself in order to avoid missing a single second? Will this film live up to the planet-crushing amount of hype?"

These questions will be answered tonight, especially the last and most important one. Now, I am not a rabid fanboy. I'm not a fan with such a distorted sense of entitlement and reality that I believe that every single moviemaker owes me because I bought a book. No, I haven't been blowing up the internets for the last year with my opinion about the film because I'm just a guy who likes films. However, I know when a film adaptation's been done right and when it's been done horribly wrong. The Dark Knight? Just wonderful. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen? Baby vomit.

I do believe that certain films become victims to their own hype, and few actually rise above (see Dark Knight), but the common problem is that many films aren't that bad at all, they just succumb to the immense weight of the accumulated hype and impossible expectations of the rabid masses. Will 'Watchmen' rise above? Only time will tell.

Let's have a look at some other films that I've anxiously awaited night and day for, and how they fared in my opinion.

Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999): I waited years for the first episode of Star Wars, and I nearly killed someone in rage after seeing it. Okay, it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't good. Jar Jar Binks ruined two generations of fans who loved the 'Wars, and George Lucas proved that he wasn't the Midas of the film world.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), The Two Towers (2002) and The Return of the King (2003): As a long-time fan of the books I started reading at an early age, I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown before each film of the trilogy came out, and nearly died from anticipation for the next. After "King" came out, I went through a small bit of film depression because there were no films to look forward to. Were they worth it? You bet your sweet ass they were. Jar Jar Binks isn't going to win a fucking Best Picture Oscar, is he? IS HE?

Sin City (2005): I'm really into the graphic novel adapations, so upon hearing that they were making this series into a film back in 2004, I nearly went into a catatonic state. Lucky for me, I'm not that fucked up. I saw it four times in the theatres, I have two copies of the DVD, and I dressed as "Kevin" for Halloween that year. Yeah, I'd say it was pretty good in my eyes.

Transformers (2007): If there's any film that has had more hype and buildup than this film, I've yet to see it. My generation, that is, the generation that grew up with the Transformers cartoons, had all the action figures and slept with Transformers bedsheets, were merciless in our demands for this film. It had to be absolutely perfect and it couldn't mess with our beloved childhood memories (because I'm sure there'd be dork riots if it did, right?). After getting all stupid over this film up until its release date, I found that afterwards, I was just content. Nobody fucked it up that badly, but it wasn't going to make me buy new sheets.

Speed Racer (2008): I was getting my face set for stunned for this film. I wrote about the trailer giving me wet dreams in high-definition colour and sound, and I couldn't believe that directors as weird and talented as the Wachowski brothers were helming the ship on this one. I mean, this was fucking Speed Racer! I cursed the fact that time was in my way of seeing this movie.

Funny thing, is that I actually didn't see Speed Racer. And haven't seen it. Oops.

A New Beginning In Springfield

2009-02-18T15:38:00.015-07:00

It practically went unnoticed by the general population, but definitely not by those who have followed the show since its inception into the collective consciousness of the world in 1989.

This past Sunday, The Simpsons ran a new opening credit sequence.
If you're a long-time worshipper of the show like me, then this is something HUGE. Sure, it might be only the opening credits and not an episode, but the opening of The Simpsons is undeniably legendary and iconic, particularly for my generation. Notwithstanding the gag changes (Bart's blackboard gag, the couch gag) and some special in-episode credits ("The Thompsons" from ep 9F22, Bart gets fat from GABF11) the main animation sections stayed constant.

Sunday's new opening sequence contained many of the same elements, but was lengthened to just about 2 minutes, and also included many characters, some new, and some updated. According to TVguide.ca, the change was a celebratory, as the episode marked the first time The Simpsons was cast in high-definition. Check it out:

Do I like it? Yes. Yes, I do. It's always good to keep fresh, and even though The Simpsons hasn't been fresh since the Spice Girls were relative unknowns, it's a bold move, one that I hope is accepted by moderate fans and psycho fans worldwide.

Speaking of the Simpsons not being relevant since "Apollo 13" delighted theatre audiences, I'd like to take the opportunity to dig up a post I wrote over two years ago on another blog site, that I'm no longer writing for. I was worried that this post was lost forever, but it's been found (thanks Greg!)! The following outlines my favourite Simpsons episodes. Enjoy!

[Except from article orginally posted by me on www.thirtylives.com on November 26, 2006]

Chris Turner, who wrote the richly encompassing Simpsons saga, Planet Simpson, stated that the best years, the "Golden Era", was the absolute genius involved in Seasons 4 through 9. I wholeheartedly agree. Therefore, as a sort of "antibacterial cleanser for the sense of humour", I give you my top five favourite episodes of all-time. It should be of no surprise that they are all from Seasons 4 or 5. Undoubtably, those seasons, and the rest to Season 9, represent the very best of this legendary television program. I consider my life to have improved after watching these marvels.

5) Deep Space Homer (Season Five, Episode 1F13, Written By David Mirkhin / Transcript)

One of the best "Homer has another job" episodes (another show mentioned later takes the prize). Razor-sharp writing, pacing and inspired references transcend into beautifully crafted assaults on the knee-jerk hysteria of the news media, the irrelevance of NASA, and the evolution of the TV father figure. Everything here is comic gold, and not by the two sweetest words in the English language: Default.

Favourite Quote - Kent Brockman: "Ladies and gentlemen, uh, we've just lost the picture, but what we've seen speaks for itself. The Corvair spacecraft has apparently been taken over, 'conquered' if you will, by a master race of giant space ants. It's difficult to tell from this vantage point whether they will consume the captive Earthmen or merely enslave them. One thing is for certain: there is no stopping them; the ants will soon be here. And I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords. I'd like to remind them as a trusted TV personality, I can be helpful in rounding up others to toil in their underground sugar caves."

4) Homer The Heretic (Season Four, Episode 9F01, Written By George Meyer / Transcript

We interrupt your regular programming to bring you a wonderful episode. In what is an excellent comment on the validity of all religious orders to be kind and generous to its fellow human, this episode really shines in the writing. The jokes are small, but numerous and quick, and the ending, which in the wrong hands could have resulted in a Hallmark-esque disaster, becomes utterly charming. I'm taking everyone's side here: Homer, Flanders, the Water Department, and God.

Favourite Quote - Homer: Kids, let me tell you about another so-called "wicked" guy. He had long hair and some wild ideas, and he didn't always do what other people thought was right. And that man's name was... I forget. But the point is... well, I forget that too--Marge, you know who I'm talking about. He used to drive that blue car?

3) Cape Feare (Season 5, Episode 9F22, Written By Jon Vitti / Transcript

When you can make walking into nine rakes actually funny, then you've achieved legendary status, as this ep has. An obvious homage to Cape Fear, this episode has it all: incredibly witty writing, a great musical number (cheers for Gilbert & Sullivan), the emergence of a great character in Sideshow Bob, and plenty of hilarious references. An absolute must see for any fans of the Simpsons, or the "Thompsons".

Favourite Quote - Marge: [ruefully] We've left it all behind. How can you make a clean break with your life? Homer: Relax, Marge, I tied up all the loose ends before we left. [Scene change to Simpsons' old house] Abe: [knocking] Hello-o? Hello-o! You have my pills! Hello-o?[meekly] I'm cold, and there are wolves after me. [Howling is heard in the distance]

2) Marge Vs. The Monorail (Season 4, Episode 9F10, Written By Conan O'Brien / Transcript

The runner-up in my top five poll is simply one of the best of the best. Conan O'Brien wrote only a handful of episodes, but his masterstroke is this episode, brimming with comedic glee and super-crisp dialogue. From the Flintstones spoof beginning, to the escalator to nowhere ending, this episode shoots comedic gold at a rapid-fire pace, daring you to keep up. The cosmic ballet goes on, and will the humour of this episode for years to come.

Favourite Quote - Marge: Homer, there's a man here who thinks he can help you! Homer: Batman? Marge: No, he's a scientist. Homer: Batman's a scientist. Marge: It's not Batman!

1) Last Exit To Springfield (Season 4, Episode 9F15, Written By Jay Kogen & Wallace Wolodarsky / Transcript

This is the one. The absolute best (according to me). This shouldn't be of any surprise to the big Simpsons fans out there, as this episode has topped many 'best of' lists. And it should. It's as close to perfection as you will get in an episode, on any comedic television series. Homer as a union boss, "Lisa needs braces - Dental plan!", the Big Book Of British Smiles, the best of times - the "blurst of times", hired goons and on and on and on. This is what comedy is in it's most pure form. It's a legend. It should be knighted, or bestowed upon it sainthood. This is television turned up to 11. And I wish there were more like it - we as a planet would be better off.

Favourite Quote (among many) - Kent:Homer, organised labour has been called a lumbering dinosaur. Homer: (scared) AAAAH! Kent: Um, my director is asking me not to talk to you anymore. Homer: Woohoo!

That's my top five. What are your favourite episodes? Moments? Quotes?

The Day The Music Died

2009-02-03T11:01:00.010-07:00

A long, long time ago. 50 years ago today. February 3, 1959.

A concert tour called the "Winter Dance Party" was enjoying big successes through the US Midwest, despite the frigid temperatures and poor travelling schedules. Featuring a very popular lineup of up-and-coming musicians, it included Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, J.P. Richardson (aka "The Big Bopper") and Dion & The Belmonts. The cold weather may not have been affecting the attendance, but it was creating havoc on the artists' tour bus, causing malfunctions in its heating system. Frostbite and illness were starting to afflict much of the traveling crew. When an extra show was added to the schedule in Clear Lake, Iowa, band members, especially Buddy Holly, succumbed to their frustrations with the malfunctioning bus and looked for other means of transportation. Holly, needing to get fresh laundry before the next performance, made arrangements with local pilot Roger Peterson to fly three people to Minnesota for $36 each.

J.P. Richardson had the flu, so he urged Waylon Jennings to let him fly instead of anguishing in an ice-cold bus, to which Jennings agreed. Richie Valens wished to fly as well, and won a coin toss with one of Holly's bandmates. Dion DiMucci from Dion & The Belmonts couldn't afford the cost of the flight. When the plane took off, it carried the pilot Peterson, Holly, Valens and Richardson. It never made it to Minnesota.

The plane crash cost the lives of everyone on board, and was the first high-profile music celebrity crash. Every artist was under the age of 30, Richardson being 29, Holly was 22, and Valens was only 18. The tragedy devastated the music industry and shattered the illusion that popular artists, at times worshipped and idolized, were invincible demi-gods. It was a loss of innocence, a loss of talent, and a loss of out-of-touch reality. The incident has been cause for creation, however, as seen in Don McLean's famous 1971 song, "American Pie".

If only this crash was the only one to claim the lives of talented artists, but there have been more. Here are some other famous musicians to have tragically lost their lives in aviation accidents.

Patsy Cline: March 5, 1963. Patsy, famous for her hit "Crazy", was killed along with artists Cowboy Copas, Hawkshaw Hawkins and Cline's manager when their plane crashed in a forest during bad weather conditions outside Camden, Tennessee.

Otis Redding: December 10, 1967. Three days after recording "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay", his best-known hit, Otis, along with four members of his Bar-Kays band, were killed when their plane crashed in Lake Monoma near Madison, Wisconsin.

Jim Croce: September 20, 1973. "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" was skyrocketing Jim to the top when he crashed into a tree while failing to take off in Louisiana.

Ronnie Van Zant, Steve Gaines and Cassie Gaines of Lynyrd Skynyrd: October 20, 1977. A pilot's error of miscalculating the amount of fuel in the plane caused the crash that killed many members of the immensely popular band just outside Gillsburg, Mississippi.

Randy Rhoads: March 19, 1982. The seemingly infinitely talented Rhoads, playing in Ozzy Osbourne's band, was killed along with two others when the plane he was riding in clipped Ozzy's tour bus during a botched "bus buzz".

John Denver: October 12, 1997. While flying his own experimental plane near Monterrey, California, Denver made a pilot error causing his own demise.

Aaliyah: August 25, 2001. Instead of celebrating my birthday, Aaliyah was killed after leaving a video shoot in the Bahamas. The plane she was in was overloaded and the pilot had traces of cocaine and alcohol in his system.

A Trip Down Remembery Lane: 2008 Edition

2009-01-29T21:22:00.024-07:00

Yes, I did just look at my calendar, and yes, I do know that it's January 29th. Is it too late to do a "remember last year? I do, and here's some highlights because I know you care" post? I don't think it's too late. It's still January, right? Hey, this is a yearly tradition, so just sit back, adjust your reading glasses (and clean them too, they're filthy) and enjoy.

How can I best sum up 2008? A daunting task if I may say so. 2008 was an emotional year, I'll say that. There were some dizzying highs, some very rough lows, and as always, the consistent creamy middles. Now that the year's over, what effect on me did it ultimately have? Now that's the $64,000 question. I'd love to say that since another year's gone by, that I've grown wiser by a year, that I've come to a maturity level 366 days greater than this time last year, and that I've progressed occupationally by 52 weeks. I'd love to say that, but I can't. I can say that I've become a tad more emotional in the past year, mostly due to a very important person in my life changing the distance between us from minutes to nine time zones. I still talk to myself, I still make fun of others to make up for my own issues, and I still seem to lock my keys in my truck.

But you know what? You don't care, and neither do I. Nobody said at the start of 2008 that "personal growth" was required before 2009. Things happen, people change, and time flies. That's life. The only constant year to year? The Edmonton Oilers still frustrate the shit out of me, but I can't stop loving them.

Now, on to the memories! This year, I'm giving the top prize a cheap plastic trophy! Hooray!

BEST EYE-GASM: In Bruges

There were a shat load of great films in 2008, but I'll have to say that the film that flew under the radar and really shouldn't have, was this gem from director Martin McDonagh. An incredibly well-written dark comedy with outstanding performances, it features a murdered kid, a hooker and coke-obsessed midget and the most boring beautiful town in Europe. And I couldn't have enjoyed it more!

Participant Ribbons: The Bank Job, Be Kind Rewind, The Dark Knight, RocknRolla, Slumdog Millionaire, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Wrestler

BEST EAR-GASM: Into Your Lungs - Hey Rosetta!

Basically, no other album has generated more happiness, brought me through more times of sadness and boredom and kicked more ass than these Newfies. Leader Tim Baker has more talent in his dead skin flakes than most musicians out there. I predict this band will get very, VERY... somewhat noticed by the masses. And that will be a huge, unforgivable crime. They should be at least bigger than Akon. Damn Akon. He sucks.

Participant Ribbons: Beck - Modern Guilt, Black Mountain - In The Future, Constantines - Kensington Heights, The Hold Steady - Stay Positive, TV On The Radio - Dear Science, Wolf Parade - At Mount Zoomer

BEST CONCERT-GASM - Hey Rosetta! and Two Hours Traffic (Pawn Shop, Nov 10)

I shall repeat the comment I made on Facebook the moment I came home from this show: "If War and Peace was an epic, then tonight's Hey Rosetta! and Two Hours Traffic show was 10 War and Peace's worth of epic." Enough said. (Hey Rosetta! also played with The Coast on June 26. That show was 10 Ben Hur's worth of epic)

Participant Ribbons - Bedouin Soundclash with Shad K (Grant MacEwan, Apr 4 - First show I planned!), Every act at COCA (Ottawa, June 6-11), Bloc Party with Shout Out Out Out Out (Edmonton Events Centre, Sep 9), Bedouin Soundclash and Hey Ocean! (Edmonton Event Centre, Oct 25), The Australian Pink Floyd Show (Winspear, Dec 10), Monotonix (Pawn Shop, Dec 27 - most insane show I've ever seen!)

BEST LIVER-GASM: COCA Conference (Ottawa, June 6-10)

Once again, COCA proves to be unstoppable, in that I couldn't stop myself from indulging in a few drinks. Times 10. Per day. For almost a week. A truly wonderful experience shared with equally wondrous delegates, associates and musicians from across the country. Oh, and those beers on the right are mine. The red-coloured drinks are some douche's. Probably somebody from Ontario. Burn.

Participant Ribbons: Stampede Pubcrawl (Calgary, July 5), Bike 'N Wipes II (Bentley, AB, July 26), My birthday pubcrawl (Edmonton, Aug 25), Halloween Pubcrawl (Oct 31)

There might be more best things next post! But probably not.

"You Gotta Get In The Rhythm, Gino."

2009-01-21T14:17:00.003-07:00

Hey literacy fans!

I took a bit of time off, but I'll be writing again soon. My next post should be my annual "Best of whatever I liked last year" post, but for now, let's just enjoy this post-game moment, courtesy of Ethan "Always liked Oates better" Moreau.

Also, there will be more post frequency from me! And that's certainly something to clap for.

CLAP! CLAP!

Time To Get Your Jingle On

2008-12-24T15:29:00.009-07:00

I don't really know what it means to "get your jingle on", but I saw it on a Christmas box, so it must have some kind of meaning. It actually sounds kind of perverted when you say a couple of times, and really emphasize "jingle" with a creepy seducer-type voice.

When I think about what "get your jingle on" really means, I think about those crazed Christmas types who annoyingly spout out holiday cliches ad naseum to anyone who unfortunately gets within earshot. You know the type I'm referring to. That co-worker that can't shut up about the fact that they're "really excited that Christmas is coming", and they drive home that point every damn day, as if you didn't hear them the first time they said it on November 1. Or that friend that keeps reminding you that they "can't stop baking!", like that's some kind of holiday accomplishment. The most annoying for me are the folks who really take "get your jingle on" to heart. They're the ones who absolutely MUST play Christmas music all the time as soon as December rolls around. No other music - enjoying as it may be the rest of the year - can even be considered worthy to be played. That would upset baby Jesus or baby Santa, or something. They give the excuse that constant playing "puts them in the mood", or some other bullshit. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm against seasonal music, just not ALL THE FUCKING TIME for four weeks.

The problem I do have with Christmas music, is that it never changes. The same songs have been played for what, 100 years or something? Sure, some people will argue that the songs might be the same, but because there's different versions, it's still awesome to sit back, listen to your favourite songs and dream about what presents you're going to get. My problem is this: just because there's a million different variations, covers or versions of a shitty Christmas song, it's still a shitty Christmas song.

Hey, I'm not completely against holiday music, I just prefer it in limited amounts, like only being played on Christmas Eve, or Christmas Day. Not before, and certainly not after (that's just stupid). Here's a few examples of cool songs that I'll be listening to tonight.

All ranting aside, I'd truly like to wish everyone around the world a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, a Happy Kwanzaa and a Happy New Year! Now, who wants a drink?

Christmas in Hollis - Run DMC

Let Me Sleep - Pearl Jam

Blue Christmas - Elvis Presley

The Ramones - Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)

The Kinks - Father Christmas

Pointless Nostalgia 7: Imagination Not Included

2008-12-19T14:58:00.014-07:00

'Tis the season, my friends! It's almost Christmas!

Now's the time to whip out all those special holiday season traditions, if you haven't started doing so since the day after Halloween. It's time to spend quality, touching moments with family and friends, mostly because you have to - it's the law, or something. It's that time of year when you eat a boatload of chocolate, candy and every other sugar-infested confection, enough to almost develop diabetes in record time. It's the only time of the year that you can get away wearing turkey gravy-stained pajama pants, and that decade-old "Beaver Canoe" sweatshirt for 2 weeks straight. It's time to dash through the snow, walk in a winter wonderland, and roast chestnuts on an open fire (has anyone even eaten a chestnut? I imagine they taste like eating a chunk of particle board).

And speaking of chestnuts, I'd like to dust off an old theme, with the triumphant return of Pointless Nostalgia! With PN posts, I get to reminisce about the good old days, the not-so-good old days, and those days where I'd just watch television and eat a frozen Coke that I put in the freezer the night before. Since it's close to Christmas, every medium we have (television, radio, newspaper, internet) is saturated with advertisements for children's toys. Basically, Christmas is still pretty much for the kids (unlike Halloween, which has been forcibly taken over by adults in pimp and skank costumes), so I'd like to look back on some of the toys that have come and gone in my lifetime. Nowadays, toys come complete with imagination and complex moving parts, but when I grew up, you had to supply imagination yourself, because the toy was pretty simple. And sometimes, it was just dumb.

Here's some examples of toys that seemed like a fun idea at the time of reception at Christmas, but were ignored 5 minutes later:

Mr. Microphone

Some inventive genius thought that kids would seriously go bonkers for this toy, because really, every kid is an attention whore from birth. Mr. Microphone enabled any one to dial into an FM frequency, and talk like they're on the air. Supposedly, kids are supposed to marvel at the thought of being on the radio. Granted, every kid jumps at the chance to annoy their parents, friends and everyone else around them, but this got old fast. Basically, after the first "Helloooo!", the kid (or adult) gives up on trying to say anything good, and resigns to just making farting noises until even that gets too dull. However, the commercial would have you believe that this is the greatest invention since insulin.

And for a second commercial, see here. I want to face-punch the people at the start.

PogoBall

This was actually popular for a time in the late '80s, and I know that many of my friends had one or two (they wouldn't share with a sibling). It was supposed to give the joy of a pogostick, but without the handy pole. You'd put one foot on it, then try to get your balance with the other. The second part took about a decade to accomplish. Kids with bad coordination were fucked. It was a nice idea, but it ultimately failed, despite its fad status. Why? Because advertisers forgot that kids are fucking lazy, especially once video games became omnipresent, and trampolines became must-haves. However, if you got a fat kid to try it, it did provide something to laugh at.

Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine

A toy company's goal is to create a toy so awesome, that it makes kids throw batshit-crazy temper tantrums when they see it. This toy wasn't one of those toys. I remember one of my sister's friends had one, and I thought "That's awesome! I must have one NOW!". You just put ice cubes in the top, turn the crank, add the sweet sauce, and you've got an instant sno-cone! Looking at it now, it's basically just an ice crusher, and an impossibly hard one at that. No kid likes to have to do work when he or she plays, and this fucker was hard to operate. As this video shows, you have to be an adult to use it, taking away an important rule of toys: Kids have to be able to have fun with it unsupervised. Just like these kids:

This toy fails, because as I mentioned above, I found a better way to enjoy an ice treat. Coke in the freezer. Works every time.

Magic 8 Ball

I can't believe that these are still around, but you can still see one in someone's house in their room, or on a business person's desk, as a result of a shitty Christmas gift exchange. If you do see one of these in a person's possession, and it looks recently used, instead of high on a shelf of other forgotten junk, get the hell out of there. That person should not be communicated with, because they can't make their own decisions to save their life. When I was a kid, the novelty of the 8 ball was asking it questions indicative of a precocious nature, you know, for fun. Asking the ball, "Does Molly like me?" or "Will I get a better Christmas present next year?" were common questions. Unfortunately, the 8 Ball was not magic. It just fucked with you. Giving you answers like, "Outlook not so good", "Concentrate and ask again", or my personal favourite, "Better not tell you now" (why the fuck not?), just fooled with your mind. After a while, you just kept shaking it until you got the answer you wanted. For some reason, I never received "Yes", to my question of "Am I cool". Fuck you, 8 ball.

Snap Bracelet

These suck, and if you had one, you were retarded.

Ein! Zwei! Die!

2008-12-08T13:32:00.005-07:00

Gott im Himmel!

When does this open, and how many times am I legally allowed to watch it?

There are as many zombie films out there these days as there are trucks in Alberta, but not all the films are decent or even watchable, just like not all drivers in this province are law-biding non-assholes. And there are plenty of homages, films dedicated to reliving or re-imagining the genre, a genre originate by the legendary George Romero. However, for every "Shaun of the Dead", there's a "Zombie Vegetarians".

And now here's a Norwegian entry into the zombie-homage-comedy, or zomhomcom pantheon. Død snø, or Dead Snow, directed by Tommy Wirkola, certainly has the blueprint for any zombie film: doomed teenagers, some old person predicting inherent danger, blood and guts, and of course, zombies (either of the slow or quick kind). Could be the recipe for just another shitty film, except for one difference:

Fucking Nazis! Zombie Nazis! Yes! Now we're kicking it into high gear.

I assume that this kind of film serves as more than just a movie for the Norwegian people, since they were invaded and occupied by the Germans during World War II. This film could act as a little redemption, because there's nothing more satisfying then resurrecting your hated one-time enemy and defeating him, zombie-killing style. No remorse, no regret. Just kill. Even if it is just in film.

Here's the trailer. Enjoy!

Attack of the Tuesday Night

2008-12-03T11:56:00.002-07:00

It wasn’t so much a request, but seemingly more like a dare. After hearing about the wonder that is ‘Name That Tune’ at RATT, she seems surprisingly interested, but I sense a small hint of disbelief, even a hint of sarcasm. So I delve further into the scintillating details of the weekly event: the dedicated, almost fanatical teams, the plethora of drinks, and the tunes and the passionate naming of them. She now grows considerately more interested in possibly attending another night, but she requires one thing before: a morning message. She wants to know all the details about the evening’s activities. Salacious or not, it’s the details that could change her outlook from curious fence-sitter to full-blown trivia zealot.

Like in some television flashback, complete with shimmering fade-out, my mind wanders back to just over a half-day past. My faithful friend Justin and I approached the U of A’s Stadium parkade with a sense of impending dread. We were late. We weren’t there at the start of the game. We weren’t there to confidently and assuredly announce our team name, Kathleen Turner Overdrive. Granted, we had teammates there, people trustworthy and dedicated enough to be there on time in our stead. But how many questions had been asked already? How many teams answered correctly? How many teams stole questions out from the grasp of others? How many questions had our team guessed, and guessed right? These questions swirled ferociously in our minds, but our fears were faintly soothed by the history of games played before. We’ve been down before, and we’ve come back to win. As the reigning champions, and team to beat, we do have a reputation of being a stalwart opponent, with sometimes almost limitless knowledge. That knowledge might have to be tested tonight.

As we ponder the uncertainties we’re faced with, we enter SUB with a quicker step in our stride. “If we are down,” Justin remarks, “then we’ve got to get in there. Now.” I couldn’t agree more, as I jet over to the bank machine located a few steps away. If we are down, and can’t recover, I’ll need to buy enough drinks to soften the blow. In this game, if you’re losing, sometimes the only way to save face is to be the drunkest one playing. The elevator sounds off with its familiar high-pitched ding, and its doors slide open, goading us into entering its gaping maw. We each take a deep breath, and accept the elevator’s invitation. The doors close with a nefarious coffin door-like creak, potentially signaling our approaching competitive fate. I almost don’t notice that I’m holding my breath.

I take a breath. Again, that high-pitched ding greets us, almost mockingly. I can hear the faint dim of the room through the doors, and as they open, I suddenly become completely surrounded. The noise is almost deafening. It’s crazy busy in RATT tonight. Every table is occupied. Tables of patrons, some playing teams, some college chums, some colleagues, are all immersed in conversations, anecdotes and jokes. Everything they’re saying is competing for dominion over the audible kingdom, but no-one’s winning. Amongst the clamor, I can smell the years-old beer-saturated carpet. I can detect the automated splash of the washing machine. RATT never changes, it never deviates from its goal: to provide seats and tables to campus travelers who simply want a safe haven to escape the rigors of school, work or both. Also, there are drinks. And plenty of them. “This could be the night of nights,” I say to myself.

I let my eyes wander over the field of humans before me, and I catch a familiar sight. A single, solitary hand is raised, signaling the location of my own sanctuary: my team’s table. Justin and I make some conciliatory gestures to the rest of the team, silently indicating our apologies for being late. We both maneuver to our respective saved seats, cautious to watch our movements while placing our coats, lest we do something unintentionally hilarious like smell ourselves. I have barely begun to get settled when I blurt out the question that needs to be answered, and needs to be answered now: “How are we doing?”

I do not get the answer I want. My teammate Alan, matter-of-factly tells me that our team has 5 points. Only 5 fucking points. My heart sinks for a second, but quickly regains its composure. I don’t need to know how far the game has progressed; I just know that we’ve got work to do and there’s no time to wallow in self-pity. A couple of teams miss their questions and we pick up a couple steals right away. The round ends, and the scores are announced: “And in the lead with 50, KTO”. I almost kill Alan.

Everything is gravy from then on. We’re not perfect, but it doesn’t matter. My team doesn’t relinquish a lead that easy, and we certainly don’t make it easy on the other teams. We yell. We laugh. We point at other teams and give the evil eye. We make fun of everything. We cry foul and shout “EASY!” when we think a question is too simple for another team. We don’t hold any grudges and it’s all in good fun, of course, but we cannot deny or ignore the competitive spirit we all have burning inside of us. We’re here to win and have a kick-ass time doing it. This isn’t competitive knitting here.

In the end, our gung-ho spirit leads us to victory again. Cheers erupt from our table, with smattering of claps and declarations of “Good show!” and “Well done, indeed!” We receive our conquest from the game hosts, a $30 gift certificate good for another night. $30 may seem paltry and there may be thoughts of whether that prize is worth the mental anguish, the nervous preparation, and the never-ending stomach butterflies that comes. Is it worth it?

If you come next time, you’ll know the answer.

A Bad News/Good News Kind Of Day

2008-11-21T14:05:00.016-07:00

THE BAD NEWS: Here's just another reason why America needs a helmet.

It needs a helmet, because it's becoming more and more obvious that it has severe learning deficiencies and mental disabilities, and it can no longer hide them. America could seriously hurt itself if the proper precautions are not taken to protect it from the inherent dangers out there in the world.

Specifically, the danger of creative and original thought-provoking entertainment! God only knows what kind of cognitive trauma could beset the USA if programs like Pushing Daisies were to continue on the air. With such sharp and intelligent dialogue, vibrant and engaging visuals and such wondefully well-written characters and plot development, America could actually learn to enjoy such a whimsical masterpiece of creative storytelling. And America can't have that. America is quite happy to wallow in its own stupidity, to marvel moronically at such intelligence-voided "reality" programs like "Dancing with the Stars" and laugh-track turds like "According to the late John Belushi's fat, untalented brother Jim". Why would America need a show like Pushing Daisies, a show that was as clever and witty as any other work of fiction on television today?

Because America doesn't need an uppity show like that reinforcing the fact that America is dumber than a bag of mentally-handicapped hammers. America watched a little bit of Pushing Daisies, and just didn't get it. Now, a show like "Dancing with the Stars", America gets that. America likes celebrities, and it likes things that move. Also, there are shiny costume adornments, and everybody likes those things. DWTS has all of those, and it's easy for America to keep up with shiny, moving people. But if America has to follow a plot, character development and ingenious dialogue, then things get messy. America will stomp its feet, pout its lips and furrow its brow before it wails incessantly that this kind of thing isn't fun. It's not fun because America has to think, and that is far beyond its capacity.

America, you've ruined another show destined for greatness with your limitations and your preference for anything that only requires mental reaction, and no contemplation. If you had only watched, learned and enjoyed, you could have found yourself on a higher plane of entertainment, but you didn't bother. And now Pushing Daisies is cancelled. Like Arrested Development before it, America decided to give creativity and quality the finger. And I hate America for it.

And Canada, you didn't help either. Shame on you both.

THE GOOD NEWS: Speaking of Arrested Development, apparently the film version of the show is a go!

Hurray America!

Now lose some weight.

I Am A Delicious Word Soup

2008-11-20T09:59:00.003-07:00

Sometimes it's not enough to see your written words on the computer screen. Sometimes you want to see them written on your computer screen RANDOM AND IN COLOR! Yeah, this link makes your words incredible and awesome and snazzy.

Try it for yourself, and prepare your face for stunned! I mean, you don't have anything better to do anyways.

Shameless Plug

2008-11-18T11:56:00.001-07:00

And apparently, children's imaginations include flourishing hand guestures.

Also, support the Christmas Bureau.

And read the Sun.

For Everything You Do, Just Be Don Draper

2008-10-30T10:36:00.009-06:00

It's no secret that the best television show on TV since July 2007 is Mad Men.

Well, it's a secret to you, because you don't watch it. You'd rather be watching reruns of 'Home Improvement' on CMT (how dare you!). What you're missing out on is possibly the best written, best acted and best directed series your feeble looking balls will ever be laid upon. It oozes sex appeal, it's drenched with alcohol-fueled self-assurance, and it harkens back to a time when days were counted by the number of cigarette packs. It's that good. I mean, 14 award wins and 18 nominations in two seasons? And the second season just ended? And the seasons were each only 13 episodes? WHY AREN'T YOU WATCHING THIS?

Sorry, I get a little flustered when I ask people if they watch great shows, and I only get blank, moronic stares (it's the Arrested Development epidemic all over again). Stop watching anything else, and watch this show. Wait, you can watch Pushing Daisies as well, because it's also super awesome, and you have nothing better to do on a Wednesday night. I know you.

Jon Hamm, Golden Globe winner for Best Performance by an Actor, was recently on Saturday Night Live this past weekend, and although I didn't watch it (I was at a concert), I came across this clip. If you're a fan of MM, you'll get a major kick out of it. If you don't watch the show, just watch it anyways. You're on the internet, and you like videos.

Don Draper, you diabolical bastard. Pick up the DVD of Season One right now. Watch, learn, love. Repeat when Season 2 comes out. Then wait impatiently for Season 3 like a crack addict waiting for the guy at the bottle depot to count his dumpster bottles, so that he can get almost enough money for the next hit.

Time To Dress Up Those Insecurities

2008-10-20T12:51:00.003-06:00

Don't you hate it when bloggers drudge out familiar material, in an effort to block the fact that they've nothing new to write about? I certainly hate it, but fuck it if this isn't too damn funny to post again.

I've posted this video before, but it definitely derserves another viewing. Nay, it deserves a yearly viewing! Right around this time of year ought to do enough justice. And since I know some of you are always suffering "costume indecision syndrome", this might give you that much needed boost. For the ladies, anyways. As for me, I have absolutely no clue what to wear for the big weekend. Sure, I have some half-brained ideas and schemes, but there's a huge leap between having wild costume fantasies, and actually putting it into practice. And for cheap.

Sure, I could buy a costume, like at one of those shitty online costume junkyards, but honestly, why? Why would I want to look like one of the biggest douchebags at the party? There's plenty of guys who are going to take the reins for me, so why bother horning in on their douche-tacular territory? As a note, if you looked at the Halloween Distributors/San Francisco insert in Sunday's Edmonton Sun, and thought, "Hey, these costumes are hilarious! I'm totally getting one!", then you are an infinitely-sized douchebag. Like this guy.

But ladies, by all means, if you're going to go slutty, go all the way (I recommend this. Somehow, you can even make the ugliest mythological titan sexy). If you don't have "sexy" in front of your costume, and a minimal amount of clothing, you're ruining Halloween for everyone. Okay, maybe don't go too far. There's should be a definitive line between "holiday fun" and "prostitution ring".

Have a safe and fun Halloween everyone!

A-Ha Has Eight Albums. Seriously.

2008-10-10T13:08:00.003-06:00

Here's a bit of a laugh for your long weekend, folks.

The gist: "Ever wish songs just sang what was happening in the music video? Well now they do."

After reading that little blurb about the following video, and after watching the video and then calming myself down after having laughed so much that I started making these sad wheezing sounds, I pondered an interesting ponderance. There are so many music videos out there that one often remarks to oneself that "that video was mega-stupid. What the fuck did any of that have to do with the song? I am outraged, scared and confused."

The video:

The result: Hilarious fun-timery.

Happy Thanksgiving weekend everyone! (Canadians, that is)

All My Sticky Notes Are Yellow

2008-09-16T14:41:00.002-06:00

After seeing this video, I'm going to get all the sticky notes out of the supply closet here at work, then I'm going to have my own sticky-note fun! Yeah! And I'm going to have a cool musical score in the background (score will most likely be the radio)! This will be the best afternoon ever!

Of course now that I look at my supply capabilities, I have only a faded yellow colour. My cavalcade of stickies would most closely resemble a stream of pee. That's not fun at all, methinks.

In any event, watch this video! It'll warm your heart, even if your heart is locked in your body, and that body is trapped in an office on a beautiful September day.

EepyBird's Sticky Note experiment from Eepybird on Vimeo.

No News And Sad News

2008-09-02T14:29:00.005-06:00

Alright, so I'm a terrible blogger.

I haven't been posting with any respectable frequency lately, or anything that's even noteworthy or memorably. It's not my fault!

Of course in reality, it's absolutely my fault. I can't really post at work (although I am right now, because I have a few extra moments), and I can't at home because my computer isn't hooked up to the internets. My roommates' computers are, but they're all kinds of slow. And I'm too darn lazy to call up those Telus morons and get their monopolistic asses down to my house.

So yeah, all my fault. No news. No good updates. I suck.

Do you know what else sucks? Don LaFontaine passed away yesterday at the age of 68. You may not know Don by name, but you sure as hell know his voice. Basically every film trailer in the past few decades (over 5,000!) has had Don's voiceover talents in it, as well as over 350,000 commercials. The guy pretty much invented the rather auspicious and diabolical sounding "In a world..." opener, which is always my favourite thing to hear. After you hear "In a world", you're transported via movie magic to that world. Sometimes that world is bad. Sometimes it's kickass.

His voice is the kind of foreboding bellow that I've always aspired to, and it's a damn shame that he's gone. Of course, now there's a open spot for a movie trailer voiceover guy...

Farewell and Godspeed, Don. You'll always be in our world.

The SUN Is Shining

2008-08-18T11:23:00.006-06:00

The Edmonton SUN, that is.

My third week at my new job started today, and my first on my own with no supervision. I'm confused and bewildered, with an almost permanent thousand-yard stare. I am doing work though, and probably more in the first three hours than a whole week at Grant Mac this summer. Productivity is on the up! Of course, you're probably asking why I'm posting if I'm so busy. A good-looking question, and I have no answer for you that might take off that stupid smirk on your face. So let's just say that I'm trying to get my mind into a creative mode while typing.

So what's new in the world today? Canada nets ninth Olympic medal. Take that Kazakhstan! Batman may join "Dancing With The Stars". Adam West, you've come along way since "Lookwell".

Ugh. I'm getting back to work.

Last Day Of Work

2008-07-31T14:08:00.007-06:00

Today has been my last day of work. In a couple hours, I will no longer be an employee of the Students' Association of Grant MacEwan College. It has been an incredibly entertaining 27 months, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything - I'm just trading up. As of Monday, I begin a new position with the Edmonton Sun, one to which I am very excited, mostly because I grew weary of my SA position. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the organization, or the people or the 70% female campus (no straight male ever gets tired of that), it was just my job lacked passion. And interest. And excitement. I just wasn't suited for advertising sales, and classy begging, aka student organization sponsorship.

So I'm out. And I've been having a very relaxed last day. A late morning, a great lunch, and a slow afternoon. Since this blog isn't a journal blog, I should probably throw in some relevant pop-culture references, so let's take a look at some last days of work in film. Are they great last days? Perhaps. Are they at least filled with an overly dramatic high-pitched musical score? You bet.

The Pledge (2001)

A girl's body is found during homicide detective Jerry Black's (Jack Nicholson) surprise retirement party. He pledges to find the killer for the family, because that's what good cops do - they swear to solve crimes after they've retired, because what else are they going to do? Sean Penn directs, and does a pretty good job of making Nicholson limit his sunglasses-wearing and cease making those scary, smiling clown faces he always seems to have ready for court-side Laker game appearances. If I were Jack Nicholson, I would pledge to forget that I ever saw Diane Keaton naked.

Falling Down (1993)

Another retiring cop on his last day, Martin Prendergast (Robert Duvall) rushes to track down an unemployed, divorced engineer (Michael Douglas), who violently snaps during a day where nothing seems to be going right. I think we've all been in similar situation: bad day at work, morons driving on the road, gas prices too high, no good popsicles to buy at the grocery store, etc. But we don't get guns and shoot up shit. This is Canada. We just talk down to every one we see in a very patronizing passive-aggressive tone. We don't get violent, we just become assholes.

Snakes On A Plane (2006)

Julianna Marguiles is a flight attendant on her last day of work, when all hell breaks loose. An assassin attempts to kill a murder witness by releasing a crate-full of deadly snakes when the plane is airborne. Only Samuel L. Jackson can save the day. Enough ridicule has been thrown at this movie already, so I'll spare you that tripe. Some thoughts, though: I believe that Julianna Marguiles has the record for most acting projects in which the title pretty much sums it up. Along with Snakes on Plane, she's been in Traveller, Dinosaur, The Big Day and Ghost Ship. What could these be about? It's a puzzler.

Clerks II (2006)

Ten years after Clerks, Dante and Randall are still mired in dead-end jobs, this time at a fast-food restaurant. To get out of his rut, Dante wants to move away with his girlfriend, and just has one last day at work beforehand. Naturally, in order to have a movie at all, things must happen, which writers call a "plot", with side orders of "rising action", squirts of "conflict" and a juicy "climax" which isn't as sexy as it sounds. The plot for me today involved the dangerous turning on of my computer, the tense struggle to pack up my personal belongings, and the heart-warming denouement, which involves me looking back at my office with a look of soft, self-satisfaction, mouthing some cliched departing sentiment, and turning out the lights.

To all my friends and coworkers at the SA,

Good night, and good luck.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

2008-07-18T14:23:00.005-06:00

Strolling around the internets today yielded a few videos of great interest. That interest turned into squeals of glee and unbridled giddyness. And I'm at my office. Kind of embarrassing, I have to say.

The first video is the trailer for what should definitely be next year's geek wank-fest, Watchmen. Arguably the greatest graphic novel of all time (although one can make a case for Berenstain Bears and the Messy Room), this film adaptation is being helmed by Zack Snyder, the man who brought us the ass-kicking, dialogue-screaming, almost permanent slow motion 300. Will Watchmen have the same level of "oh SHIT!" scenes that 300 had? Will it also almost be filmed entirely in slow-mo? Will I be able to repeat killer lines of dialogue ad naseum after the film has ended, much to the annoyance of my friends and co-workers? I hope so. For the HD version, check it out here. High-definition equals ten times as mind-melting.

Next, I have the first teaser trailer for Terminator Salvation. If you recall, I posted about Christian Bale's involvment, and how fucking incredible it is for him to be on board. And for the next few films in the franchise, no less. This trailer just gets the fanboy in me frantically jittery, like the ADHD kid who's gorged on the bulk candy at Safeway while weekend mom is busy reading self-help magazines. I'm all a-tingle. Have a look!

Finally, I have the trailer for American Ninja. Why? Because they don't make movies like this anymore, and this is fucking awesome. Michael Dudikoff for the win, people. If anyone can defeat "the secret Black Star Army", it's him. He was in TRON.

That's Enough Already, K-Tel

2008-07-10T13:44:00.012-06:00

Do you ever watch a TV program, or see a commercial, and instantly feel immense hatred, unyielding disgust, and an almost uncharacteristic urge to put your fist or inanimate object through the screen? I do, every time I see a commercial for children's music, or rather, music sung by children. And to thank for this unbridled rage? K-Tel.

K-Tel is a Canadian-based company that was started by Philip Kives, a Saskatchewan-born entrepreneur who originally sold items like cookware, sewing machines and vacuum cleaners door-to-door and in department stores in Canada and in the US. Kives made a decent living, due to his fast-talking style which won over consumers who didn't have a moment to think about whether they wanted the product or not. Everything changed in 1962, however, when while in Winnipeg, Kives demonstrated a non-stick Teflon pan in a 5-minute program on television. With what could be the world's very first informercial, Kives was able to sell anything to a vast audience of people, and give unemployed loners something to watch at 3am. In early 1966, K-Tel began selling compilation TV records, starting with 'Twenty-Five Country Hits'. After that, K-Tel started releasing compilation albums featuring contemporary hits at an alarming rate throughout the '70's, and much of what was found in record stores were "as seen on TV!".

In 1983, Channel 4 in the UK began a series entitled, "Minipops", which consisted of cherubic pre-teens dancing and singing to pop hits of the era, and some classics. The kids were revealingly-clothed and makeup-splattered like the artists of the songs, which some viewers either found cute and innocent, or degrading, immoral and pedophile-enticing. The show was popular with kids initially, but adults found that children singing lyrics of a sexual nature to be a tad unsettling, like when five year-old Joanna Fisher covered the Sheena Easton song "9 to 5" in nightclothes and included the lyrics "we make love". That's fucking creepy. Despite ratings success, the show was cancelled quickly, and albums were soon released, with much success in Canada, where the albums were picked up and distributed by K-Tel.

Yes, my family had the first album, and yes, I listened to it. But even as a young boy, I could tell that there was something wrong with the concept. I understood at an early age that songs are sung by the original artists, because for the most part, they actually sound good. Pardon my generalization, but kids don't do anything really well. They can't really sing, they can't dance (jumping around is not dancing), and they're not funny (unless they're hurting themselves in a non-permanent way, like after jumping into something). I believe that the album's popularity stemmed from many children seeing the kids dressed up as music stars, hearing them sing, and thought that one day, that could be them. What kid doesn't like dressing up and bouncing around to music, whatever the style? Mini-Pops was a dream for some kids.

Fast-forward to present day. K-Tel has recently released the fourth album in the new incarnation of Mini Pops, Mini Pops Kids, and Kidz Bop in the States, has released 13(!) compilation albums, all featuring "today's top hits!" and "all your favourite songs!". Well, not my favourites, but probably some 13 year-old's favourites. Whereas I can accept the proliferation of albums in the US (because they love the sexualization of children, and generally everything stupid), I can't see why we accept it in Canada. But thanks to K-Tel, we are going to have album after album featuring phony-acting children butchering modern and classic pop songs. And for whose benefit? Children who are musically entering a post-Doodlebops world should be listening to the actual artists, not some pre-pubescent wannabes. Any parents who think that buying this for their kids will save them from lyrics or images that they find distasteful or inappropriate, try actually fucking parenting, instead of accepting a watered-down facsimile, because your kid is going to hear and see the original somewhere else. Kids are quite adept at downloading, so they don't need a shitty compilation CD to get the songs.

What K-Tel is doing, is telling a bunch of child actor rejects that they could be the next big thing, but in actuality, they're just getting an early start at really bad karaoke. They're going to be the ones that you see in the corner of the bar on karaoke night, singing every second song. But you're drunk, and they're serious.

K-Tel, just give it up already, and stop making me hate every kid in those commercials I see, and every song I hear them sing. I mean, I already hate all those songs, but those kids don't deserve it. Okay, that kid with the hat does. I hate that bastard.

Happy 141st Birthday Canada!

2008-07-01T18:11:00.004-06:00

We all go out

Then we all come home

But I fall asleep with the TV on

At 3 AM they play "O Canada"

True patriot love and lalalalala

True patriot love

- "True Patriot Love", Joel Plaskett Emergency

Happy Canada Day everyone!

Capital Gains: The Ottawa Chronicles

2008-06-13T15:02:00.015-06:00

Another year, another free laundry bag.

A week ago, I returned once again from the greatest conference known only to college event planners, student life proponents and all-around permanent students who only know how to drink and sway listlessly to music. A conference that creates wondrous memories and also deletes potential wondrous memories, depending on the amount of free alcohol consumed. A conference so great in scale and entertainment, that it's at least one hundred times better than this one.

Yes, last week was another edition of COCA (Canadian Organization of Council Activities), this time in Ottawa, the capital and home to an NHL team that can't even get to game 7 before they lose in the Stanley Cup finals (losers). This was the third conference that I managed to sneak past security for, and I couldn't have been happier with the results of the six days there. This COCA may well be my most favourite yet, due to musical showcase quality, good people and the amount of sweat produced when no sweat should be produced (like when standing still). The whole point to the conference is to bring together individuals, schools and companies that are related to the campus entertainment and programming industry and get them networking, friend-raising, and generally truth-spewing drunk. Therein lies the fun. It's truly great to be with many like-minded individuals, regaling tales of wonderful campus events, sharing innovative ideas and concocting wild, insane beliefs that this is the year their school will be immortalized for bringing U2 to play.

I was lucky this year. Again. It seems that I've been in the right place at the right time for the last two years in order to attend this conference. And I couldn't be happier, and to my place of employment, SA MacEwan, I give a hearty salute. To them, I lift my free rum and cranberry juice-filled Festival Promotions water bottle to them, and say "Thanks for settling with me as your representative! I promise that I'll now come in before 10am to keep your trust."

Here's some memories:

- The 98% humidity. The 30+ degree temperatures. No A/C in the hotel. Yeah, this wasn't cool at all (no terrible pun intended), and it made for a most uncomfortable stay, especially since I thrive in colder climates (I live in Edmonton by choice, kids). However, the topper is the hotel staff telling us to "turn your thermostat all the way to HOT to get colder air out of the vents". If that isn't the most unintentionally hilarious piece of hotel damage-control B.S., I don't know what is. After complying with their "advice", I managed to flood half my room. Thanks, dorks.

- The Showcase Talent. I don't want to play favourites, so I'll say that every single band, artist, comedian, lecturer or variety entertainer was 10 pounds of awesome in a 5-pound bag. That being said, here's my favourites (in chronological order), and friendly links for you to check them out. Creature, The Carps, Brendan McKeigan, Dan Mangan, Darrin Rose (thanks for the shout-out!), The Coast, Hey Ocean, Hey Rosetta!, God Made Me Funky (two years in a row!), The Johnstones, and every artist in the singer/songwriter showcase (Craig Cardiff, Colin Munroe, Jessica Rhaye, Robyn Dell'Unto, Lesley Pike and Casey Desmond).

- The Random Word Game. Pretty much self-explanatory. People do weird things while drinking, and if you're trying to come up with clever dialogue with which to contribute to a discussion, sometimes you just get one random word out. If random enough, you might drag some others along for the ride (thanks Courtney, Jenna and Sameena!). Example: You say "clouds". Someone else says "credenza". Another person says "muskrats". You say "earlobe". Someone says "this is retarded".

- The Canadian Heritage Commercial Recollection. Similar to the Random Word Game, on many a night, I found myself drinking and probing people's minds for crazy things. One thing I couldn't get enough of, was asking people what was their favourite Canadian Heritage commercial moment. The answers were excellent, but even more so, was the startling realization that I can pretty much recite the ones I know by heart. I watch too much TV. But you know what? I'm fucking learning. So there. My favourite moment? "But I need these baskets back!"

- Shelly Climbing A Tree Outside Algonquin College. Man, she fucking got up there quick. And high!

- Post-Hospitality Room Parties In The Breakaway Tours Hotel Room. This is where much free booze was consumed, and many inane, yet hilarious conversations about nothing were conducted. This room introduced many of the revelers to the "quiet coyote", which was dedicatedly used to quiet the masses after numerous hotel security visits. I can only hope that Lora has managed to regain her sanity after the coyote was less than successful. I was quiet, Lora, but mainly because my voice is so low that it appears to most people as if I'm just mouthing words.

- The Worst Named Candy Ever. Honestly, whoever in Cadbury's Maynards marketing department thought of this is probably a pervert. Or a satirical genius. I'm guessing a pervert.

- Being Called "The Biggest Disappointment Of COCA 2008". Fine, so I didn't go "pool-hopping". So fucking what? This is what I get labeled as for not wanting to put my clothes on while soaking wet? Thanks for the confidence boost, Guillaume. I'm a bigger downer than no hotel air-conditioning. Yay.

Have another memory, my dear fellow COCA-goers? Let me know!

Moving On Up...To The West Side

2008-05-29T15:19:00.004-06:00

This weekend involves easing up the pressure on the fun pedal a bit, as I'm moving out of my apartment, and into a house.

There's a significant portion of my feelings that are slightly hurt due to this decision, but most of my feelings are on board, saying things like, "Yes! Good show!", "I heard there will be two fridges! Excellent!", and "What's this phenomena known as 'air conditioning', and what does it do? Does it make the air more awesome?" This was a decision that wasn't made lightly, but then, I hardly make any decisions heavily. There are a number of reasons for the move, some of which I don't need to go into here. Alright, the rent is lower. Satisfied? I work for a non-profit organization that isn't crooked. I'm not exactly buying any rocket cars or solid gold shoes any time soon.

I've been reflecting quite a bit on the past year, and what living alone in my own apartment meant to me (the ability to walk around in minimal clothing, basically). Last year, I wrote a post on how incredibly super great it was to live on my own, and now, I have a few things to look forward to while living in the new house. In no particular order, here they are:

- Roommates. Yes, I remarked last year that I liked not having roommates, because I didn't want to be subjected to inane conversations about things nobody cares about. However, after a year on my own, I've had inane conversations about things nobody cares about with myself. Recently, I talked to myself about why I hate it when little bits of lint get caught in the toe-end of my socks. Roommates will save me from kicking my own ass.

- Air-conditioning. Last summer, I almost died from heat exhaustion in my own home, and stripping down to nothing almost every day helped very little. I can't wait to avoid the "window-temperature conundrum", wherein you can have the windows open, and let the heat in, or close the windows and let the heat dwell. Even with an almost never-ending supply of popsicles, I pretty much lived in Sweat City for months. And adding a ceiling fan in late September? Great timing, genius.

- Community beer, backyard deck and fire pit. This summer is going to be just like a beer commercial, with plenty of beer on ice, scantily-clad hotties engaging in summer activities (like hottie frisbee, hottie picnic table dancing, and hottie walking around), and everyone having the best day of their lives. Seriously, it's going to be killer, and we're having open auditions for the hotties starting on Monday. Don't be afraid girls, I have a free "Snow Jam" visor for all that attend.

- Living a block away from Kevin Lowe. If any readers hear about Kevin getting daily trade requests and operational tips in his mail, that might be me. And the ones signed in blood, with temporary Oilers tattoos on the envelopes? Yeah, that was definitely me.

Back To The Usual Routine: Having A Mind-Asplosion

2008-05-22T11:29:00.003-06:00

Last week, I was in Jasper for a staff retreat, which was only memorable for the sheer number of animal statues that were ridden, and then I was in Las Vegas for a wedding, the ceremony of which I actually missed. Were good times had? You betcha. Quite frankly, I'm a little depressed to be back in town, although this rain is a bit beautiful, considering the 40+ degrees I experience in Sin City. However, my depression will not quell the onset of my usual metaphorical "brain aneurysms" that I have when I read certain articles of incredible wonder.

I've just read a news article that put my pop-culture, film nerd mind beyond the stratosphere, into the damn mesosphere. Included in the article are things that I thoroughly enjoy: an actor, a film series and a certain time period.

For your reading enjoyment: The Article.

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?!

Christian Bale. Signed on for the next THREE Terminator films? I've had fanboy mindgasms before, but this one is unconscionable. And to think that I've just come down from my excitement cloud having known that Bale is in Terminator 4. After reading the headline, I pretty much started having renewed crazy hallucinations and visions, not unlike William Hurt's character in Altered States. But I had good ones - we're talking evolutionary progression, here. Not only does one of my favourite actors (and let's be honest, one of the best actors working today) have a starring role in the next film of one of my favourite sci-fi franchises, but he signed on for THREE films? I can't believe that this is happening.

Granted, I have my reservations regarding the direction of the fourth film, due to McG's involvement. This guy directed Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle. Fuck. However, with Mr. Bale taking the lead, and the future time period being the battlezone, I can only have good thoughts regarding the quality of the final product. And for the films to follow, as well. Many, many kudos to The Halcyon Company for their prowess on the negotiating table (and securing the rights to Philip K. Dick's works as well - great work!).

Christian Bale. Three Terminator films. My birthday and Christmas have just merged into one gigantic orgiastic present getting-fest.

Happy Mom's Day, Mom!

2008-05-11T15:07:00.002-06:00

Hey Mom, I hope you're having a great day today, and I'm sorry for once again showing up hungover. That's eight years in a row, I know. I can't help it, though. It just that the day before your special day is always nice out, and there's always something going on. I know you didn't pick your day to be a Sunday, but that's not my fault either. I got you some flowers! I hope that you like them. I had to ask this really cute girl at the greenhouse "what kinds of flowers do moms like?", and she probably thought I was retarded. No matter, she's probably a psycho anyways.

I love you Mom, and even though I reek of beer, I'm sure you can smell the love emanating from my pores.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

The Best Written Article You'll Read This Week

2008-04-29T18:34:00.005-06:00

Sadly, no, I didn't write it. I had a rant all revved up and ready to go on the subject, but alas, I'm not one to put down mediocre stakes on land someone's already put down much better stakes. Random metaphors aside, I was going to weigh in on the current Miley Cyrus witch trial, because a) I watch too much TV, and b) because I had nothing better to write about other than a salacious picture of a 15 year-old. I can't tell which is more pathetic. No wait, I can.

But I won't. Instead, I'll leave you to read this article by "STV" on Defamer.com.

It sums up exactly what I've been thinking and getting sick and tired of, which is the hypocrisy of the apparent "general public consensus" and all the constant "outrage du jour" that infests some media outlets (Nancy Grace - just calm the fuck down!).

Highlights:

"This isn't about Miley Cyrus without a shirt on or if she's been seen somewhere in her lingerie, or if her father dropped the ball. It's simpler than any of that; this whole thing comes down to picture of a 15-year-old looking like she just got the shit fucked out of her. And if there's anything America loves more than a war, it's teenagers fucking."

"Also, teenagers fucking is a billion-dollar industry. Juno, for example, would not have been a lucrative, laureled darling of both the Christian right and the hipster left had she and Paulie Bleeker not A) fucked and B) kept the baby they conceived. Superbad was a more pointed argument for the appeal of teenagers not only fucking, but fucking well."

Well put.

**UPDATE**

Yeah, Disney sucks. Damn hypocrites.

You've Got The Touch!

2008-04-16T22:39:00.003-06:00

Yeah, just so you know, you've got it. You've got the touch. Also, you also have the power. To really make you believe that you're a winner, I've asked Stan Bush here to really drive this home. Happy? You should be.

Also, that kid needs to shut the fuck up. Optimus doesn't have to answer your questions. He transforms days into adventures. Fucking adventures, man.

YEAH!

Life Is A Pretty Sweet Fruit

2008-04-10T14:09:00.001-06:00

Whilst trolling the internet today, I came across my favourite of favourite Kids In The Hall sketches, which pretty much sums up my life at times. Pure comedy mastery. Videos!

Since The Dawn Of Time Fact #2311: People Getting Hurt Is Funny, As Long As It's Not You

2008-04-09T13:57:00.003-06:00

Hey party people.

It's been a crazy couple of weeks, as work has been incredibly busy. Which is a good thing for making time go by faster, but it cut deeply into my internet surfing. And I needs my internet surfing.

So here's a compilation clip showing some of the dangers of being a news reporter. Of course, many of these reporters put themselves into danger willingly, so the fact that some may have been hurt makes it all the more humourous.

Enjoy!

When People Drink During Infrastructure Meetings

2008-03-25T22:43:00.008-06:00

If you live in the capital city of Alberta as I do, you may know about the awesome little intersection I like to call the "Colon" of Edmonton, that is, Calgary Trail/Gateway Boulevard and 23 Avenue. For several years now, since the development of the South Edmonton Common business/commercial district, this intersection has become one of the worst sites for accidents, rush-hour/any-hour traffic jams, and general douchebaggery with respect to driving skills. The once simple southern T-intersection that was once a oft-ignored landmark on the way out of town, has become a significant infrastructural blight on the face of this fair city.

Could this nightmarish roadway crossing have been averted? Of course. Are the solutions only being acted upon now? Of course. Construction on an interchange that will service Calgary Trail south, Gateway Boulevard north, 23rd Avenue and 19th Avenue will begin the day after April Fool's Day this year, and will continue for 3 years until it is operational. 3 years! Not only is traffic and general "getting around" terrible now, but it's going to become even worse, and for 3 years. This project is so intense and utterly awesome in scale, it has its own website, 23avenue.com. What I want to know is this: I assume that city planners weren't broad-sided by an overnight pop-up of commercial development that spans 320 acres, and has 2.3 million square miles of retail space. I assume that this area was in the works for some time before it was actually built. Therefore, WHY THE FUCK WASN'T THIS INTERCHANGE BUILT THEN? Why is it always a knee-jerk reaction when it comes to projects like this? Because the City of Edmonton has done it before.

You may know of a fairly significant landmark between 170th and 178th Street, and between 90th and 87th Avenue, for an area coverage of over 570,000 square metres. Yeah, it's West Edmonton Mall. Recently, the City is trying to figure a way to extend the Light-Rail Transit (LRT) system to the mall to alleviate traffic along 170th street. The cost will probably be in the hundreds of billions, and probably won't be done until 2050, but it's worth a shot, right? I mean, who'd have thought that there would be traffic to THE WORLD'S LARGEST SHOPPING AND ENTERTAINMENT COMPLEX. I sure didn't. Naturally, the city would have probably known that this sort of development was happening in advance. I can imagine, though, the following conversation taking place when the mall was being built:

City of Edmonton Employee #1: "Wow! We're going to have the largest mall in the world, right in our city. Edmonton will be world-class! Perhaps we should consider extending the LRT in that direction, as we discussed as far back as 1962? I mean, it's bound to have a huge draw, and it sure would make it easy to get there and back from central locations along our existing LRT line."

City of Edmonton Employee #2: "Nah".

Simplistic, but probably not far off. Just crazy. This town has a serious hard-on for "better late than never" construction projects. From the interchange to the LRT, nobody will do it better, or later, than the City of Edmonton. And if you think I'm exaggerating the possible completion date of 2050 for a westbound LRT, look at the stats for the extension from the University station to the Health Sciences station:

Distance: 800m

Time from initial planning/construction to completion: 6 years.

By comparison, let's look at the development of the Chunnel, the fixed-link crossing between Folkstone, Kent, England and Coquelles, France.

Distance: 50.5 kilometres. UNDER WATER.

Time from initial construction to completion: 6 years.

Awesome.

However, it could be worse. It could be very worse. Check out this site for some serious traffic issues around the world. We might have it bad sometimes here, but damn if it isn't a Sunday stroll compared to some of these places. Edmonton rules.

Dark Clouds Over Edmonton Tonight

2008-03-13T23:59:00.003-06:00

Perhaps just over me.

Centurion!

2008-03-03T14:23:00.004-07:00

I've made it!

What started out as a simple rant by a bitter, yet sometimes salty young man, has grown to become the bitter, salty rant you know today!

I've reached to 100 posts, and I'm quite proud of this achievement. I've been writing since July 11, 2006, which would make that 602 days. That puts my committment to this blog way past my longest relationship (135 days), well short of my longest job tenure (1488 days), and much, much shorter than my time in university (2427 days). However, I'm still going to write, so the latter milestone may fall if I can keep finding neat things to write about and stupid things to make fun of.

So here's a toast to me. Cheers.

Speaking of neat things, please check out this site, Garfield Minus Garfield. Here's its blurb:

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolor disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against lonliness in a quiet American suburb.

The resulting cartoons are unbelievably funny and quite revealing. I heartily encourage you to jaunt on down to the site and spend some quality time with Jon Arbuckle. Quite frankly, he needs some support.

Boffo Box Office Biz! But The Other Way, Though

2008-02-26T17:57:00.005-07:00

Perhaps I'm a little guilty of schadenfreude, but who the hell wouldn't get a kick out of this latest box office disaster:

'Hottie' a nottie at the box office
You can lead a gossip-loving fan to water, you can even dip their heads in the water, but you can't make them drink. Or even take a sip. A thousand people may line up at the Franklin Mills Mall and wait for hours to catch a glimpse of Paris Hilton but they won't pay money to see her in a movie.
Playing in 111 theaters, the weekend estimate for "The Hottie" was a "Nottie" - $25,000.
Total. An average of $225 per theater or, two, maybe three people per showing.

Daily News wire services contributed to this report.

Pardon me for a second. BWAHAHAHAHA! What a stinging rebuke for a no-talent nothing. Of course, we all saw this coming. I mean, what moron would actually believe that a Paris Hilton movie would actually make money in the theatres? I just feel bad for the people that have seen this piece of shit. To date, 'Hottie and The Nottie' has earned $27,696, which would be about 2500 people. THAT'S the most disturbing fact in all of this, that people outside of Paris' own family and her babbling sycophants have actually seen the film, and paid for it.

You'd think that Paris would have seen this coming, especially with the recent box-office turds that Lindsay Lohan (I Know Who Killed Me) and Jessica Simpson have crapped out. Thankfully, Jessica's camp realized her inability to do absolutely anything worthwhile and pulled Blond Ambition after screening it in only 8 theatres. It, and probably Major Movie Star, have and will be, straight to DVD, which will probably be found in the 99-cent bargain bin at Wal-Mart.

However, Jessica, Paris and even Lindsay cannot boast the lowest box office total. That honour actually gets bestowed upon Katherine Heigl, for her wonderful turn as a seductress in Zyzzyx Road. Also starring Leo Grillo (some guy) and Tom Sizemore, it's the story of love, murder and a horribly spelled road.

Zyzzyx Road release only lasted six days, from February 25, 2006 to March 2, 2006. It was release in only ONE theatre in Dallas, Texas, to six patrons. Unofficially, its opening weekend netted $20, but its actual box office total is proclaimed to be a whopping $30, the difference being a personal refund by Grillo to one of the makeup artists.

$30! To six people!

Zyzzyx Road, I salute you. You may have only made enough money to fill half a gas tank, but you're still infinitely better than any baby-puke film that Paris Hilton will put out.

Beware Of Jessica Fletcher

2008-02-21T22:52:00.010-07:00

Generally, older folks are kind, gentle people who just want you to get off their lawn. They love "the way things used to be", voting and Werther's Original candy. Most are quite harmless, especially the unarmed ones. However, there's one geriatric that you need to avoid at all costs. If you even hear her name uttered, your very life is at risk. Avoid the east coast, and for the love of all that's holy, never, EVER go near Cabot Cove, Maine.

Why the alarm? Why the grim message of potential doom? Because the woman in the picture to the left wants to kill you.

Jessica Fletcher was her name, and she was the main character of the show, Murder, She Wrote, which ran from 1984 to 1996, consisting of 264 episodes, and a few TV specials. Its popularity was palpable; the show was consistently a must-see for many people languishing for some sort of Sunday night escape in anticipation of the misery the week ahead would yield. The show was Matlock-esque in its vice-like hold on numerous genarians, from sexa to octo, and even middle-aged individuals found it to be somewhat whimsical in its approach to the most horrid of living ends. Children were taught that old people did have a use that went beyond sweater making and the holiday kiss on the cheek. Older people could actually perform civic duties, like solve murder mysteries. Apparently, the only pre-existing experience an old person needed was a publishing deal and a flippant wit. Murder, She Wrote was a delightful tale of one individual's crusade against the rampant ageism found in today's (or at least the '80s) society.

Or was it?

Jessica Fletcher, one could argue, was indirectly the worst serial killer in United States history. And the public adored her.

Each episode involved a murder, and subsequently, Jessica's insatiable curiousity always got the better of her, causing her to meddle in every police investigation. The cops always arrested the most obvious suspect, but Jessica always revealed the authorities' stupidity, and solved the mystery by revealing the real guilty party, thankfully within the hour (or sometimes in two parts). But hold on a second. 264 episodes, 264 murders. Jessica Fletcher always involved. Does anyone else see the path of gluttonous bloodlust? A ravenous desire to punish the living? Jessica Fletcher, I have figured you out.

Some might find it humourous that Ms. Fletcher coincidentally happened to always be around when a murder happens, but let's face it: even after 5 deaths, the cops should be questioning her a bit more. Does death follow her like rats to the malicious tune she plays with her necrotic hands? Is this woman Death itself? I believe she is. I believe she is indeed the Reaper, and her transportation, her bike, is her pale horse (the bike might have been red, but whatever. It's evil). All the clues are there. Simply watch the opening title sequence, and you will see.

In the opening scene, she begins to type her latest list of those who will meet their ultimate demise. The title is a dead giveaway (no pun intended), as "Murder, She Wrote" has 4 syllables. In China, Korea and Japan, 4 is the number most associated with death. Next, you can see her stalking out her next victims, by climbing to them, running to them, even making contact with them through a seemingly harmless wave. Her face reacts to the site of her next quarry; it's a look of pure malevolence carefully disguised by a surprised veneer. She even acts out how she's going to dispose of them. In the end, she's seen satisfied, quite pleased with the list of who's to shake off their mortal coil next.

Know this, faithful reader: simply because she's off the air, do not for a second believe that her lust, her desire to kill has been satiated. Quite the contrary. She will continue to kill, continue to frame the innocent, and continue to make stupid fucking jokes at the end of each episode.

You've been warned.

When A Truck's Rage Goes Unbridled, It Becomes A Monster!

2008-02-13T23:03:00.019-07:00

mon·ster
-noun
1. a legendary animal combining features of animal and human form or having the forms of various animals in combination, as a centaur, griffin, or sphinx.
2. any creature so ugly or monstrous as to frighten people.
3. any animal or human grotesquely deviating from the normal shape, behavior, or character.
-adjective
4. huge; enormous; monstrous: a monster truck.

The picture above is that of the monster variety. You'll notice that it's dimensions are enlarged greatly, almost comically, as to enhance its status as a monster. Many humans, much like those described as number three in the definition above, display a fond affliction to these vehicles, so much so that it's seems juvenile or retarded to those observing from a distance.

And there I was, observing from a distance at Rexall Place on Saturday night. Although, not quite from a distance, but rather right front and fucking centre. For I, Tyler Daignault, for one night, became the stuff of legends...or something like that.

It all started when my friend and colleague Christina sent me an urgent text message telling me that I should "omg Tyler, you have to enter Sonic's Monster Jam Announcer contest!". Never one to ignore a message that brings our Lord into reference, I scrambled to nearest internet computing machine to see what had caused such a furious and urgent cry for my entry in competition. Sonic's webpage did not prove Christina to be a histrionic liar, but rather a wise sage. For what I saw ignited a spark within and a special feeling welled up inside me. It's that tingling feeling you get when you think to yourself, "Oh man! I would just kill at this!" For many years, friends, relatives, acquaintences and complete strangers have said to me that I should "be on the radio, or something". I've most assuredly taken this observation to heart, but regrettably, never to task. However, I've always looked out for special opportunities that allow me to showcase my unique oratory skills. Through the years, I've annoyed many with my "movie trailer-guy voice" and promoted many events by way of my microphone hogging. This "Monster Jam Announcer" contest would be just another way for me to perhaps gain some new admirers of my voice, or perhaps catch the ear of someone significant - a station manager, perhaps.

Don't get me wrong, though. I think monster trucks, and all motorsports in general are pretty much the dumbest "sporting events" out there. You want to watch cars zoom by you? Sit by the Whitemud or Henday for a while. However, I will always put my own opinions aside if it means I can win something. After auditioning at Sonic the following Friday morning, I found myself in the top 5, enabling my commercial for voting by the general public of Edmonton. Hear the commercial that put me into the top five! After an intense weekend of voting, and thanks to my efforts on Facebook, I won with 46% of the vote! I was going to Monster Jam and get to announce during the performance! I also received four Gold-Club seats, but who cares about those? I couldn't believe it; I was going to put my vocal talents to use in front of thousands of people. I was busting, and I had to get prepared. Hear how I prepped myself for my big night. The week proceeded to fly by with supersonic speed, and before I knew it, it was Saturday.

I made a decision that if I were to win this contest, then I would have to make the most of it, i.e., dress up. For numerous parties, Halloween or the like, I've dressed up as an "80's rocker" or "some white trash guy with a mullet", so I had a costume in mind. Not to say that all monster truck fans are white trash, or sport mullets, but there's a reason that stereotype exists. From what I have seen traipse through Rexall for events like these (the last "Larry the Cable Guy show", for example), the people attending aren't exactly dressed to see the damn symphony orchestra. They're hicks, and they like it. I can't tell you how many "Motorists" (remember, from "Who's Who In The Mall"?) I saw there, but I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised. In fact, you'd expect it. So what better way to fit in, and truly appreciate the gravity of the situation, than to dress up. When in Rome, right? I also conned my friends Mike G and Greg into costuming, as well.

We met our contact Nate at Rexall, and proceeded to descend into the depths of the coliseum, to just outside the visiting dressing room, where we signed a waiver (for what, I don't really know), and psyched ourselves up for a bit. There were plenty of trucks to see, and we even got eyeballed by the anthem singer and her boyfriend (like they haven't seen people looking like us before - girl, you sing anthems at a truck event, for fuck sakes). Then, it happened:

Can you say "crazy, if only for a few seconds?" I sure can. Yes, it was short, and the MC ripped the mic out my hands, as if some massive five-ton truck was barreling down on us, but I had a great time! After the shock and awe of it all settled in, we went up to our seats, which were prime to say the least. However, as we reached section 101 and looked at row 16, seats 1-4, some assholes were sitting there. I just assumed that they were confused or just dumb, but Mike and Greg were ready to berate them on their poor seating choice. I got the usher involved instead (I don't want to tarnish my new celebrity status), and he approached the seat poachers. As they left, Mike yells "Britany!", and some girl yells, "Fucker!" Apparently, one of the poachers was one of Mike's ex-girlfriends. I can't think of a better way to get one up on the ex like giving them the fucking boot. It was a delicious scene. The show was on, and we proceeded to drink, eat, generally be merry, and of course, pose for any pictures from our new, adoring fans (and there were some).

Many thanks to Sonic for choosing me as their represntative, many thanks to everyone who voted for me, and many thanks to Nate from LiveNation. Most of all, thanks to the crowd. Thanks for not taking my attempt to ridicule you by way of costume as an insult. It was really appreciated.

"I've Totally Seen That Actor Somewhere", Part One

2008-02-06T23:20:00.000-07:00

In a brand new category of posts, I'd like to answer that age-old burning, and possibly sweaty and drunken, question: "Who's that actor, and where have I seen him/her before?"

Remember that time when you and your friends were sitting around, watching the picture tube and having a few drinks? The conversation was drifting between why your love/hate relationship with the Oilers is reaching near psychotic levels and why Dave's girlfriend could actually be a hooker. All the while, you're trying desperately to find something to do, because frankly, anything's better than just sitting there on a Friday night watching Space Channel's "Friday Frightmare" and drinking sad-man beers. You're watching "Aliens", and then somebody asks the question that sparks a colossal debate: "I've totally seen that actor somewhere. What else has he been in?"

And with that, I'd like to introduce the first actor in a series of posts that deals with answering that elusive, expansive question. The answer to the question is, "Yes, you have seen him before, and no, he wasn't in that show 'Titus'. That was actually Christopher Titus". Our first actor you've seen before is the very underrated and talented Michael Biehn.

Born in Alabama in 1956, Michael eventually attended the University of Arizona, where he enrolled in the drama program, and truly learned what it took to not only be a wildcat on campus, but a wildcat on screen. He was most recently in Planet Terror, from "Grindhouse", but you didn't see that, because when you went to the theatres, you saw "The Reaping" instead. I bet you really regret that now, huh? Let's take a look at some of the films that Michael's presence not only made the film, but he made the viewing experience explode out of your TV and out of your mind!

In The Terminator, Michael shows us his incredible range of talent when he's confronted by a past he's unfamiliar with, and without clothes. Watch the urgency, watch the committment, listen to the awesome dialogue:

Incredible. What year, indeed. You totally remember him in that, right? Now, where else did you see him? How about Aliens? Keep watch at 0:49 and 5:12 to see how an extraordinary actor takes a normal scenario like being attacked by hostile xenomorphic aliens, and makes it his own.

He is a wonder. The shotgun in the aliens mouth, and the line "Eat this!" was your favourite part of the film, wasn't it? You've definitely seen him in other films, though. How about The Seventh Sign? K2? Three films playing a Navy Seal (Navy Seals, The Abyss and The Rock)? One of my personal favourites, is this gem from Tombstone, where he played "Johnny Ringo" with a malicious deliciousness. Let's watch.

I don't know about you, but that scene gave me some old-fashioned goosebumps, like if someone took some cold sarsaparilla and unexpectedly poured it all over my back. That's kind of a dick move, actually.

So the next time someone says, "Hey, I think I've seen him before in something. Wasn't that guy in The Matrix?", simply say, "No, moron. That was Joe Pantoliano." This is Michael Biehn, and you had better show respect. What other actor can put on some bandages, and just fucking act their hearts out? Huh? Nobody.

Who's Who In The Mall

2008-01-27T20:45:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit of a sadist, I suppose.

Since I currently work at a non-profit students' association, I'm not exactly making the kind of change that would make Daddy Warbucks jealous. Don't get me wrong, the association is all-kinds of awesome, particularly regarding my co-workers, and the fact that I get to plan college activities. However, "not-for-profit" translates to "what's the least we can pay you before it gets embarrassing for everyone?" Therefore, I've relegated myself to taking a part-time job in addition to my full-time job, because a) the extra money is great, and b) I really didn't want to enjoy my weekends anyways. So I took a job working as a "sales associate" for a certain satellite radio company. At West Edmonton Mall. The greatest shopping and tourist mecca in the fucking universe. Do I love the pain of not having a day off in the week? No, but I'm afraid that I might be getting used to it, only because I've found a way to keep myself entertained.

Now, contrary to what you may think, there are times when I actually like working at WEM. Probably not in the way you think, though. Sure, there are those times when I wish for sweet death, but other times, I like working there because of the swelling mass of humanity that slowly oozes its way through its consumer thoroughfares. If you have any interest in observing human behaviour, the mall is the place to watch, record and by all means, make fun of every single person there. Many people will remark at some point in their lives that "Boy, the mall was a zoo!", so in keeping with that theme, I present to you "Who's Who In The Zoo?"

The Camouflage

Do you have one piece of camouflage?

How about multiple pieces of camouflage, that when worn all at once, create one single outfit that covers you in forest green or sand tones from head to toe? If so, then you're a camo-moron, and yes, I can see you. I don't know how or why this fashion trend started, but I used to know a kid in elementary school who wore camo sweatpants and a camo hat, simply because he thought that when we played Hide-and-seek, nobody would be able to find him. We always did, because he looked stupid, and he was fat.

The Clones

The Clones are any family or couple that feels the best way to express their love for each other is by dressing the exact same way. There's nothing better than to say, "Hey, these are my bastard children, but you'd never know it, because we all look super awesome in our matching outfits", or "Honey, I'll totally wear that matching track suit, if it means that I can still see you naked, because I can't get anyone else to." This is psycho-shit, people, and it's on display all the time.

The Motorist

I don't watch auto racing, so maybe I just don't get it. However, I definitely get the Motorist. Here's a guy or gal that just loves the thrill and monotony of auto racing (more specifically, NASCAR), so much so that they want to be draped in their favourite car number or sponsor. Sometimes I want to be draped in Mountain Dew and Tide, too. The checkerflag pattern on the arms is a must. It speaks a lot to the ambitions of the individual, and their goal of one day having their arms win a race. The Motorist usually smells like KFC.

The Alberta Tuxedo

Given the nature of the economy in my province, these people are popping up in increased numbers. The Alberta Tuxedo is as blue-collar of a person as the colour they proudly sport. They work for Suncor, Syncrude, Jake's Metal Refinery and the Camrose Kodiaks. They've taken the expression "wouldn't you just love being draped in denim?" to the max. The denim says they're built tough, but the leather collar says they've got a soft heart that's unfortunately not water-resistant. The cell-phone that's always handily clipped to the waist lets everyone know that they're ready for a phone call duel, anytime fucker. Overall, they're pretty much douchebags.

The ProstiTot

Largely due to the gradual sexualization of underage individuals in today's society over the last decade, the ProstiTot is a staple of the mall scene. Young children, attempting to emulate their heroes on TV, on film or in music (Hannah Montana, Bratz, High School Musical), can be seen flocking in droves to their favourite store to get the latest in spaghetti-strap tank tops. Their screams over a recent boy-crush can be particularly nasty within hearing range, and even made more piercing on a bedazzled cell phone. They can be found having their youth raped at LaSenza Girl, or day-dreaming about being pregnant like tween patron saint Jamie-Lynn Spears.

The Fat Girl With The Small Backpack

I've got an idea: wear something that doesn't greatly emphasizes your problem. Like a really BIG backpack. Fuck.

The Last Of The Best Things Of 2007!

2008-01-22T20:31:00.000-07:00

2007 was a crazy, super-awesome year, and there's really almost too much to cover. Good food, good friends, good conversation - you know, the usual. I pretty much covered all that was important to me, made an impact on me, or gave me a new mindgasm to wrap my mind around. There were some bad things, but who wants to remember those? I sure don't. The faster we forget, the better off we'll be.

Therefore, I'm going to stop reminiscing, and get back to what this blog was meant to do: tell you about kids' stuff.

However, I do have to give a big Rhymes With Tyler shout-out to a very special person. This person made 2007 a truly memorable one, for all the right reasons. I can assure you, dear reader, that without this person, this past year would have been knocked down a few notches on the "memorable meter".

To "BR", you have my thanks, and you have earned your place as a "Best Thing Of 2007".

Best Of Things 2007 Continued!

2008-01-15T23:25:00.001-07:00

Continuing what I started last week, here's more 'Best Things' of 2007! Let's dive right in, preferably head first, especially with that "No Diving" sign nearby.

Best Drinking/Socializing Event (Multiple Days): COCA 2007 in Niagara Falls (June 11-16)

How can I best describe COCA (Canadian Organization of Campus Activities) 2007? Uh, blurry I guess. This year's conference (my second now), was 5 days chock-full of amazing musical artists, phenomenal sights and sounds, and sexy delegates, which may or may not have included me. Which would lend one to believe that the conference was low on looks. In any case, I would like to give a huge shout-out to Team Alberta, who stuck by each other's side while in godless Ontario. Like pilgrims in an unholy land. Big 'what-ups' to the cool people of Ontario, but only because they came from the west (that's you Christa). All in all, a very memorable time, summed up quite nicely by this:

Honorable Mention: Reading Week in Las Vegas (Feb 19-23), Houseboating in BC(Aug 26-30), Mitchapalooza (Aug 31-Sep 3).

Best Drinking/Socializing Event (Single Day): Bike 'N Wipes (August 18)

Multiple and fancy hats off to my compatriot Greg for organizing this event, comprising of 18 crazy fools and one small Alberta town. The idea was simple: take an ordinary pubcrawl and make it extraordinary, simply by choosing the bars in Bentley, Alberta, and making our transportation to the bars childrens tricycles and bicycles. The result? Unbridled hilarity the likes that have not been seen by these eyes. Camping in the abandoned lot. Big Daddy's and its hard-on for diamond-plating. The bag of tomatoes at the hotel bar. Dick Damron. The list of memories is endless. Here's a snapshot of the hilarity:

Honorable Mention: Too many to mention. Every other weekend, I suppose.

Best Youtube Video Find of 2007: Malibu.

Speaks for itself. Done. Next.

Honorable Mention: Anything with Demetri Martin, The H Is O.

Best Internet Comedy Find of 2007: Brad Neely (Super Deluxe)

In an era where sometimes "comedy" is passed of as a banal, moronic half-hour sitcom called "Back To You", at least for those of us still hurting from the cancellation of Arrested Development (I know it's been two years - it still fucking hurts!), there's Brad Neely. Nothing is sacred, and nothing should be. Nothing is low-brow, and nothing should be. Brad Neely is the little voice inside all of us that says crazy things, and makes up crazy words just for the fun of it. Except they're not entirely crazy: they're crazy awesome, with a hint of radical sauce. Example:

Honorable Mentions: Clark and Michael. And I guess "The Landlord" was pretty funny.

Next Post: Even more Best Of Things! How many more can there be?!

Tyler's Best Things Of 2007

2008-01-08T23:32:00.000-07:00

It's January, so it's about time that we look toward the future, all shiny and new it is. A new year ahead of us, full of mystery and wonder. It's exciting, no? What's even more exciting than that? Bending an eye and focusing an ear to the year gone by, reminiscing about the things that made us giddy, wide-eyed, sometimes inebriated, dizzy with anticipation, but most of all, just happy to be fucking alive!

Here's a list of things I thought were a boatload of awesome in 2007:

BEST FILM: Grindhouse
Everyone's going to have their favourites, and I have to say that this was one of my most anticipated films of the year, and reigns king as my favourite. A double-feature of pure celluloid grime, sleaze and crazy-ass action that recall both filmmakers' (Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino) favorite exploitation films. A must see together, and with the faux-trailers attached, a movie going experience was created that I'll never forget. I mean, who could forget "Hobo With A Shotgun"?

Best Film Honorable Mentions: 300, Transformers, Knocked Up, Superbad, Hot Fuzz, Smokin' Aces, Juno, The Diving Bell and The Butterfly

BEST ALBUM: "Neon Bible" by The Arcade Fire

The independent Canadian darlings struck gold a second time, avoiding the sophomore jinx by releasing "Bible", a sonic explosion of sometimes political, sometimes prophetic anthems that one might find Springsteen creating. It spent the most time assaulting my ears this past year, and it gets due credit here. Speaking of The Boss, how can this not be the most awesome musical moment of the past year?

Best Album Honorable Mention: "Because Of The Times" by Kings Of Leon, "Ashtray Rock" by Joel Plaskett Emergency, "Buffalo Of Love" by Kill The Lights, "In Rainbows" by Radiohead, "Touch Up" by Mother Mother

Best Concert: The White Stripes (June 30, Shaw Conference Centre)

There are some concerts that you've waited years and years to see, and there's this one. I had been waiting six years to see the White Stripes in concert, and when they announced that they'd be touring Canada (and ALL of Canada, mind you - a very classy move), I just about had an aneurysm. I can say safely and without hyperbole, that the show was incredible times infinity. Here's a clip:

Best Concert Honorable Mentions: The Golden Dogs (July 19, Velvet Underground), DJ Champion (June 23, Starlite Room), DJ Mike Relm (solo - June 14, Rumours Night Club, Niagara Falls), Michael Franti and The Spearheads (August 5, Edmonton Folk Fest)

**More Best Everythings Continue Next Post!**

Happy Year 2000, plus 8!

2008-01-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

Happy New Year to everyone!

All the best to you, and all of your friends! Try to be awesome this year. Really give it your full effort. It'll pay off in the end, believe me.

And To All A Good Night!

2007-12-24T22:58:00.000-07:00

Merry Christmas everyone!

Love,

Tyler

Luck

2007-12-19T23:26:00.000-07:00

I think that I'm plagued by bad luck. Not rotten luck, per se, but definitely luck behaving badly in my name. I won't get into the details on why I think so, or how, but let's just say that there are situations that I've found myself in that I can only attribute to a sour turn of chance, a spoiled bounce, i.e., bad fucking luck. And it's all my fault.

There are many forms of luck, depending on the way that you look at it. You may look at luck as a lack of control, wherein luck is beyond a person's control. You may look at luck as an essence, where luck can be influenced through spiritual means by performing certain rituals or by avoiding certain circumstances. Luck can be attributed to a placebo, in that people can attribute luck to escape personal responsibility.

For me, I take luck personally. I tend to think that bad luck (or good luck) happens to me because of something I did/didn't do, or will do/won't do. I take a rationalist approach to luck, because I believe that there is something inherently personal to "luck", either good or bad. I know now that my own personal luck cannot simply be a product of wishful thinking. It just can't. Not with the experiences that I've undertaken in my life. Using rational thinking, I don't think luck just "happens". I think that sometimes one tends to believe they're unlucky, simply because luck hasn't turned for the good for them by some way shape or form. I cannot believe in that anymore.

Recent events have come to pass that have altered my own view of luck and its influence on me. I used to think that the things that happened to me were just "bad luck" and I had no control over when or where they happened (a lack of control, as it were. Very easy to accept). But was that really the case? I can look back on those instances where I assumed no responsibility and thought, "it just wasn't meant to be. I just have some bad luck". Now, to that I say "Fuck that".

I can think of numerous examples where I've thought, "well, I suppose that didn't happen because of my own bad luck". Which now, as I've pondered about it, wasn't true at all. Things haven't happened because I haven't put myself into positions that would change the outcome of events in my favour. Example, if you were to get into a car accident, you could argue that it's just bad luck. But if you were driving in a method that's conducive to accidents, but you didn't realize it, would it still be bad luck? Probably not. You'd be a victim to probability, not bad luck. That's where I see myself. I haven't put myself in that favourable position. I've just moaned and lamented the factor of bad luck, condemning myself to the same stupid choices and actions.

So what's the point of this rambling?

Basically, the bad luck is yours if you read all the way to this point.

I just needed to rant some. Is that so bad?

**DAY AFTER UPDATE

Geez, what a whiner.

I Squeal Like A Little Girl

2007-12-10T23:42:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I pretty much found that out after seeing this trailer. And I don't care who looked at me weird (or disgusted) in my office. They don't know how long I've been waiting for not only a look at this film, but any footage at all of a live action Speed Racer film. The trailer has some extra fantastic sauce poured all over it, and I'm all a-tingle with anticipation. Although, doesn't some of the CGI look a little like the games Wipeout and F-Zero, or Fluke's Atom Bomb video? (and yes, I know that Fluke's video contained Wipeout footage, because it was included on the W 2097 game's soundtrack).

I'll level with you. Some fond memories of my youth (i.e., 5 or 6 years ago) involved spending a few precious early-morning hours watching countless hours of Speed Racer on the TV. Not the 90's recreation mind you, but the original 1960's series. It was the best treat one could get at 3 am on a weekday, besides perhaps some drunken Chicago deep dish pizza. The animation was spotty and rather shoddy, even for 60's Japan, but hey, they had been nuked. Give them a break.

Come May 8, 2008, you will see me tear apart at the seams of sanity, waiting for the arrival of this piece of wondrous celluloid. The fact that the Wachowski Brothers are involved simply makes that tearing as easy as a knife through hot butter.

I mean, look at how awesome the 60's version was! A film adaptation of a sweet 60's anime only makes a good thing one million times fucking better. Except for The Flintstones. Those films were god awful. Viva Rock Vegas my ass.

Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici*

2007-12-05T15:21:00.000-07:00

Tonight, a great ovation will arise from the deepest depths of the coliseum to the staggaring heights. For the Patron Saint of Lost Hockey Causes has returned home. Rejoice! For it is only he who can bring solace, joy and wonder to all those partaking in the great sport. We are embarking on great tidings, for truly justice will be at hand.

Welcome back Fernando.

I will be there tonight to congratulate you on a most miraculous return.

Also, some kid named Sidney will be playing. Good for him.

*By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.

Colour Me Confused

2007-11-28T22:41:00.000-07:00

"This is art. This is physical poetry. It's like the dance. And when you see it, you're transformed, because they bring you to another place. It's very moving. THIS is the challenge, against which HISTORY will measure these eaters."

I'm so confused. I'm in a constant state of bemusement and bewilderment, and I can't see the light of clarity anywhere. I just don't understand, and because of this, at this very moment, I'm beginning to go slightly mad.

It's been almost a week since last Thursday. Last Thursday was supposed to have changed everything. EVERYTHING. I was told that this was absolute fact! FACT! And now it's nearing the end of Wednesday, and nothing has changed. Absolutely nothing. I have woken up each day for six days straight, feeling the same feelings, running through the same routine, only to become more frustrated with each passing hour, each passing minute. I've looked outside, and people are going about their regular daily business as if nothing monumental has occurred. Are they blind? Can they not see what has transpired? Have they not been affected? Are they immune to the epic power of the event now past? Someone answer me!

Perhaps this is all a game. But it can't be! I'm still here, in the same place, eating the same Chicken Italiano Chunky soup, drinking the same calcium-fortified soy-based chocolate milk. Nothing is right; I haven't gone anywhere. It's like absolutely nothing of importance has happened, and the general population of this metropolitan area, and I would guess hundreds just like it, have had the same absence of transformation.

They lied to me. Those fuckers out and out lied.

Nothing has changed. Life is the same! The Turkey Bowl is a farce. Shame on the MLE! Shame on the Major League of Eating!

Idiots.

I Can Feel The Warmth Through My Television

2007-11-21T18:08:00.000-07:00

An email from a friend of mine, Rich Laffin, prompted the following exchange today:

From Rich:

Hey Tylers, Just wanted to make sure you both knew the fire channel on shaw is back. It's a awesome as ever, too bad it's not in HD. Richie

From Tyler:

!!!

I have been watching it intently ever since Remembrance Day, I believe. I read somewhere that SHAW Cable wanted to honour the heroes of the wars by completely revamping the holiday fireplace loop. It is spellbinding. The ever-changing setup, the mysterious hand that pokes and prods the fire with his/her fire poker-prodder. It is truly a wonder. I have numerous hours already on tape so that I may relive it's glory forever, or until I'm persecuted for my continued belief in the god "VHS".

We have reached a zenith in humanity, my brethren.

Yours in mediocrity,

Tyler

As some of you Edmontonians, general Albertans, or anyone who read my last blog update may already know, Shaw Cable initiated the 24/7 loop of the Fireplace last week. This loop (on Channel 11 for those in the capital city) consists of a one-hour-plus loop of a fireplace in all its fiery glory. The hisses, the cracks, the pops, and even the snaps are all dutifully included in this audio-visual televison legend. This lazily-programmed channel will be shown until January 20th, which is a damn long time. I'm certainly worried about all of the Shaw Digital Previews I'm going to miss. I'll never know what's happening right now on Animal Planet, or who won the crucial 1997 playoff series between the Blues and the Red Wings. However, all my hand-wringing is for a good cause! Because over two months of sweet, flaming goodness will be at every cable owner's fingertips. It is truly great to be alive! As noted in several Edmonton media stories, "the blockbuster log is back".

Yes, the "blockbuster" is indeed back. In 1986, and every year thereafter, someone at Shaw Cable sets up a camera and tapes a fireplace for the most exciting and titillation footage not seen since the OJ Simpson police chase or the 1972 Munich Olympic hostage crisis. I mean this is a natural, roaring fireplace. This isn't your sissy natural gas fireplace, or some shitty drawing of a fireplace that your son/daughter did, and you had to put it on the fridge, lest you hear their whining for the next two months. And they drew the fireplace green with blue fire. And there's a unicorn in there, or what should be a unicorn. It could be a potato with triangles for all you know.

If you've ever had company over for Christmas, and you've got everything laid out for a super-awesome party, you know why this channel is there. You've got family, or good friends or just people you met at the bus station coming over for Christmas cheer. You've got some liquor, some egg nog, some quick edibles like little cheese cubes, some cut pieces of a ham sausage, and maybe some crackers, like "Sociables". You've got some generic Christmas music playing in the background, which might be Roy Orbison's Christmas Special, or God-forbid, "Christmas Album" by Boney M. You're all dressed up in some Christmas-themed sweater or dress-type getup. The tree is alit with wonderful lights, and retarded decorations collected through the years, some of which you once thought were "cute", "adorable" or "cheap".

There's a TV in the room. It's just there, taking up valuable folding chair space. What do you do? The answer's simple, and you can thank Shaw Cable for it. Simply turn on the Christmas firelog, and you'll have a wondrous distraction from the aunt that always gets drunk and throws up in the toilet by the back door, or the grandpa that always yells, and is somewhat racist.

So please, this holiday/Christmas season, take a few minutes and truly appreciate the simple pleasure that is the Shaw TV fireplace. I think you'll be glad you did.

The Return

2007-11-13T22:10:00.000-07:00

After watching The Natural about 45 times on AMC over the past two months, I've noticed some commonalities between its plot and my blog. For starters, they both star a rugged blond dreamboat, adored and respected by multitudes of women and men alike. Now, all personal delusions aside, when you look at the development of the character in Roy Hobbs, and the progress of this site, there are some similarities (with the film, not the book. The book ends on a shitty note). Roy fashions a powerful bat from a fallen oak tree; I fashioned this "powerful" blog from a fallen level of physical activity. Roy was a 35-year-old "rookie" with a big-league club; I was a 26-year-old "rookie" when I started writing. Roy's natural talent turned the New York Knights into a contender, but then his interest in a woman compromises his playing ability; My natural writing ability turned "Rhymes With Tyler" into a distraction from work, but then my lack of content and subject matter compromised my update frequency.

But Roy came back from his slump, and in the end, he was victorious, as seen in the video above. Luckily, he had his back-up music playing on the old Victrola. For me, I've come back to writing after a two-month hiatus, with the easy topic of writing about coming back to writing after two months. My backup music is playing on the old JVC 3-disc CD changer. Is it cheating? Possibly. Is it the easy way? Absolutely.

My last post was on September 13, and admittedly, it's not much of a post. I had to put something in there, just to keep the site running. So really, my last post with any real compositional elements would be August 23. Fuck, that's a long time ago. What the hell has happened since then? Nothing? Nothing at all worth writing about? Actually, that's where the irony lies. There's been plenty to write about, but mostly journal-type material. Which, if you've read any of my blog, is material that I don't want to write about. I don't need to write about my life, as I've stated a few times before. My life isn't that interesting, per se. My secret life is awesome! And I write about stupid, nostalgic things in my secret life. Jerry O'Connell, eat it. I've just had the writer's block of late. I needed a break from writing about cereal, children's shows and sarcasm for just a small while, and when I felt up to it, I could return.

So here we are. What's happened to me since two days before my birthday? I will explain, using one big ugly sentence.

I drank the day before my birthday, I drank the day of my birthday (in Calgary), I went houseboating in the Shuswap, I got carbon monoxide poisoning, I went camping in Wainwright, I wore extremely short denim shorts, I started organizing events for the SA of Grant MacEwan, I met and drank with Kari and Tory of the Mythbusters (Tory's first time in Canada was Edmonton!), I made fun of shitty-looking PT Cruisers while bonding with Irshad Manji, I got a key cut, and other such activities bordering between super cool and super inane.

Because I couldn't find anything worth commonting about that wasn't about me, I didn't write. And no matter how loud the lamentations of all my readers were, I just couldn't subject them to that type of banal narration (sorry, mom and dad). However, we've reached a turn-around. I've just noticed that Channel 11 has the Shaw Christmas Fireplace on the loop, WELL before it usual scheduled airing, and what's this? A new-look fireplace? The inner pop-culture nerd in me is ecstatic! (and inner Grandpa as well, apparently. Because old people like watching static images for a very long time. Uh, apparently)

I feel invigorated!

*Cue inspirational music*

Let a new age of writing begin! Let the remembrance of nostalgia re-commence!

So hey, does anyone remember Gold Rush bubble gum?

I'm Still Here

2007-09-13T12:08:00.000-06:00

I'm just really busy. I'll update soon, for sure.

Tomorrow: I Turn A Perfect Cube

2007-08-24T21:40:00.000-06:00

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

3 X 3 x 3 = Me.

Awesome.

Two And A Half Words: Bike 'N Wipes

2007-08-23T22:11:00.002-06:00

On Saturday, August 18, 18 intrepid, determined, and slightly "not all there" individuals threw caution into the wind, as well as common sense and adult values, and descended upon a quaint 'burg in central Alberta.

Their sole goal was to once again be victorious in the game of fun, but to also show that a wonderful adventure could not be found only within the cozy orange lights of a big city, or even a reasonably-sized city.

The task was simple: Find a small town, and exploit its measly local taverns and sip & spits. My ingenious mate, Greg G, took it upon himself to scour and scout only the most fitting of towns to meet our task. And then he found it: Bentley, AB. It was right under his nose the whole time. Well, actually it was 21 KM west of his nose. He lives in Lacombe, and Bentley is pretty damn close. But he still found it, alright? We had our task, and our target, but we needed a trick. Something to truly make this adventure worthy of a small young adults' novel, like one of the Christopher Pike books where the teens get drunk, but still solve some ridiculous mystery. Then it hit Greg like a sack full of other, more heavier sacks:

Tricycles.

We'd hit the bars by riding tricycles, or if one couldn't be procured, a children's bike, obviously too small for our pizza bagel-filled frames. A pubcrawl, by which we'd travel to and fro by means of embarrassing, yet extreme and memorable fun.

And so it came to pass. The evidence? Located here.

We came, we conquered, we had cheap breakfast. We learned of the legend of Dick Damron, and why that name shouldn't be chuckled at, but instead swooned over. Bentley, you gave us underaged punks who may or may not have been drinking, an abandoned lot to tent in, and a new appreciation for diamond plating.

We give you a fair salute, and a vow to return one year's hence.

My Worst Nightmare

2007-08-14T23:31:00.000-06:00

My worst nightmare would actually be the moment I realize that my film collection was somehow erased.

Lucky for me, and the health of anyone within punching distance, that scenario will not likely happen anytime.

However, the new Michel Gondry film, Be Kind, Rewind, due out this January, encompasses that exact turn of events. Starring Jack Black and Mos Def, it looks to be just as clever, original, eclectic and strange as Gondry's earlier work, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, and the many music videos he helmed.

Count me in. Way in. Like, seeing it possibly twice in the theatres "in".

Check the high-def trailer here!

Flurries Of Funk Felt Feeding The Fanatics

2007-08-09T14:55:00.000-06:00

After looking at my DVD collection (which is in alphabetical order) I thought I'd share one of my most favourite alphabet-influenced songs, Blackalicious' "Alphabet Aerobics", a collaboration with Jurassic 5's Cut Chemist.

MC Gift of Gab and DJ Chief Xcel are one of the most intelligent and artistic hip-hop duos out there, and this is just another example of their genius.

It's possibly the best thing you'll listen to all day.

"Alphabet Aerobics" - From the A2G EP

The Simpsons Movie - It Was The Blurst Of Times

2007-07-31T23:43:00.000-06:00

I have finally seen it.

Those who know me well have probably just balked at the very fact that it took me until Tuesday evening to finally see "The Simpsons Movie". I had things to do this past weekend, alright? I did see it in its first week, so that should count just the same. If they had read a previous post on this movie, perhaps they'd understand the reasons why I didn't line up for it on opening day. They always say that they read my blog, but they don't, and I know it. I'm not an idiot.

What can I say about the movie? I can say this: I didn't hate it.

But did I really enjoy it? I admit, that some parts of it had me laughing aloud, but for the large majority of the film, I sat there and just absorbed. I knew what lines and sight gags were attempts at being humorous, but I just didn't laugh out right. Unlike the 3 gentlemen behind me, who I believe have not seen one episode in their lives, because in every single scene, they laughed. Not just laughed, actually. They guffawed. And quite annoyingly, mind you. Even at the very beginning, with the title card for 20th Century Fox, and Ralph Wiggum sings along (which every person should have seen 50 times by now on the TV spots), they burst out in uncontrollable laughter. However, this did provide the most comical exchange of the night, which was a shame that it had to be before the movie:

(Ralph sings along with the "da-da-da-daaaa" of the 20th Century Fox theme)

Stupid Ass Guy: "That's the funniest part of the movie! (he's not joking)
Me: (turning to face the guy) "I guess you can leave then."

I mention that I believe that the three morons have not seen one TV episode, because anyone that has seen the episodes as many times as I have (specifically Seasons 4-8), and truly appreciates the genius that it once was, will note that the movie had it moments, but otherwise just wasn't up to snuff. Hell, even if you've only seen 50 of the good ones, you'd see that it was mediocre at best. If you think "According To Jim" is the height of comedy, you'll laugh your ass off. You're also a fucking moron. All said, the movie, will make you smile, but it will not be memorable later. Which is really disappointing, to be honest. Consider the writers of the screenplay for this movie:

Matt Groening
James L. Brooks
Joel Cohen (consultant writer)
John Frink (consultant writer)
Al Jean
Tim Long (consultant writer)
Ian Maxtone-Graham
George Meyer
David Mirkin
Michael Price (consultant writer)
Mike Reiss
Mike Scully
Matt Selman
John Swartzwelder
Jon Vitti

15 fucking writers and consultants. FIFTEEN! I am shocked. Some of these writers wrote the funniest, most original episodes of the series. Together, they created 87 minutes of simplistic, ho-hum mainstream "comedy". Believe me, "SpiderPig" is not funny.

I can take solace in this fact: That the great episodes will live on forever in our hearts and minds. This movie will end up clogging the previously viewed bins at the store.

*DAY AFTER UPDATE:

I just re-read what I wrote last night, and it comes off a little jaded and bitter, maybe too much for a cartoon movie. But please understand that this show has indundated every part of my being for almost two decades. On a medium as large as film, I would have hoped that the effort would have been a little better, especially with as much writing talent assembled.

There were things that I really did like though! Example, the voice talent of Albert Brooks, who voiced the "villian" Russ Cargill. Mr. Brooks has voiced some of the most comedic and well-written characters on The Simpsons, including Jacques (ep.#7G11), Brad Goodman (ep.#1F05), Hank Scorpio (ep.#3F23) and Tab Spangler (ep.#GABF11).

That's The Opposite Of What Is Good

2007-07-24T10:50:00.001-06:00

Required viewing. Watch, learn, never, ever attempt.

Better Not Bring Your Kids

2007-07-17T18:03:00.000-06:00

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

fucking (3x)
sexy (2x)
death (1x)

Happy First Birthday Rhymes With Tyler!

2007-07-11T11:21:00.000-06:00

Hey!

It's the first anniversary of my blog!

One year ago, I set out to create the most outlandish, spectacular, mindgasmic blogging experience this planet had ever seen!

Unfortunately, it turned out a little different, and has become a soap box for sad remniniscing and sarcastic posturing. A pop culture wasteland, if you will.

However, it makes me happy. So there.

I'll keep writing about the things I see, either in my dreams, memories, or outside my apartment window. This year, my articles are going to be bigger, better, even more sarcastic and about even more obscure shit! Get excited! Get excited now!

New Simpsons Character Revealed!

2007-07-10T12:15:00.000-06:00

Yeah, it's me!

Since I'm not doing anything really constructive at the moment, and I've finished my leftover Pizza Slut pizza (now with Mystery Pepperoni!), I've been scouring the interweb for some quick fun. And boy did I find some! The Simpsons Movie website has a fun little activity where you can create your own Simpsons avatar. It's every fan's dream!

The Simpsons Movie is opening in just a couple weeks (July 27), and because I have been a Simpsons lunatic since I began watching it in 1990, I will be there on opening day, anticipating the worst. I say the worst, because The Simpsons has been on a slow, steady, painful decline in quality since Season 10. This fall, the show will enter it's 19th season, which means we've had to put up with 9 seasons of crap. The show jumped the shark back in Season 10, with an episode entitled "The Principal And The Pauper", and hasn't looked back. It's continued on with episode after episode of pure banality and inispid writing.

That doesn't mean I won't watch every show and not continue to like it, but I'll take pleasure in the fact that I can reminisce about the good days, and pity the kids of today.